


Broken Wings

by BrokenWings0712



Series: Broken Wings [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, F/M, Kidnapping, Loss, Murder, Pining, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenWings0712/pseuds/BrokenWings0712
Summary: Prompt was: she bought a charm for every life she took.Alex Wade was happy. For once in her life, she had a real family and was content with her lot, but when the string of murders her husband was investigating hits a little too close to home, Alex's world is shattered.With the help of her friend and a couple of cute FBI agents, she embarks on a mission to bring the killer to justice and enact revenge for her husband's death.REFORMATTED AS OF JUNE 18, 2018!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my first fic, and I actually twisted my original work to create this so it fit in the Supernatural Universe. If you notice any errors in grammar, spelling, or story continuity, please comment and let me know.  
> I do not own or have any rights to Supernatural or its characters. Enjoy!

“So my flight to Aunt Val’s leaves at 8:00. That means I’ll have to be up at 5:00 and leave by 6:00 to beat traffic and make it to the airport in time.”

“Hey hon—" 

“I’ll get the lunches packed tonight and set them in the fridge with the kids’ names on them so you don’t get them mixed up—”

“Gilda, honey—”

“—when the kids get out of the car. Now remember, you have to be out the door by 7:30 at the absolute latest so they make it to class on time. Gina will probably pitch a fit about her hair, but just try and reassure her that yes, ponytails are an acceptable hairstyle when you’re in the third grade, and no, it’s not acceptable to let little Johnny Whatever-His-Last-Name-Is behind her to give it a yank in the middle of the spelling test whenever he wants to cheat off of her.”

“Kids still do that?”

“Do what?”

“Pull each other’s hair. I thought that had gone out the window with swirlies and all the other stuff we did to geeks in school.”

“Well yeah, Roger. Just because kids have more technology than we did doesn’t mean they don’t use the same tricks anymore.”

“No?”

“No. They just film it and put it all on YouTube.”

“Oh, right. What did Gina’s teacher call that again?”

“Cyberbullying, Rog. Weren’t you paying attention to the seminar?”

Roger flashed her that suave smile he always used to get out of trouble. “Mostly,” he said, “but see, there was this gorgeous redhead sitting beside me who kept asking questions. She was pretty distracting.”

“Honey?”

“Yeah, Gilda?”

“You’re an imbecile.”

“But I’m your imbecile,” he taunted, leaning forward.

Gilda just rolled her eyes, but Roger could see she was struggling to hide her smile. He stepped closer taking the laundry basket from her arms and putting it gently on the floor. “You’re always doing so much for everyone. You keep the house spotless, the kids are always clean and well behaved, you do all the errands and shopping, and now you’re flying out to watch over Val while she has her surgery and to take care of her when she returns home. Really, Gilda, don’t you ever stop?”

She looked down playing with the silver charm bracelet she was never without. Roger had given it to her a few months after they began dating “as a way to mark the big steps in our relationship,” he’d said as he closed the clasp and adjusted it on her wrist. Over time they had added several little unique charms to the chain including a snowflake for their first holiday season together, a tiny engagement ring, a house, a dog, and two small children side by side. It was beginning to grow heavy and would jingle quietly whenever she moved. “I don’t want to stop, Roger.” She bit her lip and looked him square in the eyes. “My family is my life. All I’ve ever wanted was to take care of the ones I love. I’d be at a loss if I didn’t have anyone to care for.”

“How about just for tonight then?” he asked. “Tomorrow morning you’ll fly out and be gone for a week. Just, please, let me have just a few hours without you running around. I’ll pour you a glass of wine, and you can curl up next to me in bed while we watch crappy tv. It’ll be just like when we were dating. You’d make dinner, I’d bring the beer, and then we’d pass out on your couch after some seriously nasty hanky panky.” Gilda laughed at his raised brows and suggestive tone. They did get pretty wild back in the day… “So what do you say?”

“But I need to do another load before bed,” she sighed. “Like you said, I’ll be gone a week, and you three will trash this place by the time I get back.”

“Nope,” Roger shook his head, “not happening. I’m putting my foot down.” He leaned down and gave her a short, sweet kiss on the lips before swatting her behind and stepping back as she squealed. “Now off to bed young lady! I have to be up early in the morning if I’m going to get half as much done as you usually do, and I’m not going to stand here arguing anymore.”

Gilda cocked her head as she peered up at his much taller frame. “I believe I was promised wine before bed.”

“And wine you shall have.” He backed away and began walking towards the steps at the end of the hall. “Oh, and Gilda?” he called over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

Roger paused, foot on the top step, and slowly turned around. “If those clothes aren’t exactly where I left them when I get back up here, I’ll drink the wine myself, and we won’t leave that bedroom for a week.”

“Jesus,” she whispered and sagged against the wall, slender hand on her chest.   
Roger had this uncanny ability to make her melt with his words alone, and he was definitely skilled as far as getting people to do what he wanted, his success as a businessman was proof of that. Still, she thought as she righted herself and tiptoed to the kids’ doors, the poor man was going to have a hard time all on his own in the coming week. Gilda quietly cracked the door to Hank’s room just enough to peer inside. Her oldest was sprawled across his bed, sheets a tangled mess on the floor, and was snoring softly. He was a restless sleeper, always tossing and turning, never staying in one position for very long. Even as a baby, she’d find him twisted all sorts of ways in the old wooden crib. Gilda smiled softly and pulled the door closed.

At Gina’s door she paused. Gina was more of a firecracker than Hank, whose calm demeanor contrasted his already large frame. A quiet giant, Gilda had so lovingly nicknamed him early on. No, Gina was loud, headstrong, and refused to let anyone in the room escape without first convincing them her opinion on any given topic was the only opinion to have. She never went unnoticed, preferring to wear the loudest outfits she could find so everyone would look her way at school. “Any attention is good attention, Mama,” she’d proclaim. “If people don’t see me, how can they hear me?”

Gilda turned the rhinestone emblazoned knob and gently pushed open the door. “I swear it’s the only time that child is ever silent.” Gilda jumped and turned to Roger with a finger over her lips. “Give it a few years,” he whispered. “That mouth is going to get her into serious trouble one day.”

“Or maybe she’ll be a Fortune 500 CEO instead.” Gilda returned the door to its original position and stepped into Roger’s open arms.

“She does have a way with people.”

“I wonder who she gets that from?” Gina laid her head on his chest and gave him a tight squeeze. “She’ll succeed no matter what she does. I just want her to be happy with whatever it is she decides. Even if it’s picking up cans on the side of the interstate, as long as she’s happy, I’m happy.”

“Well I’ll be happy when I get you into bed.” Roger took a few steps and turned with a hand outstretched in Gilda’s direction. “Come on.”

“Ok,” she smiled and placed her hand in his and followed him to their room. They had a long night ahead of them, and she had only a few hours left before she had a flight to catch.

_____________

Gilda’s shrill ringtone sounded out sudden and ominous in the dark room, jolting her out of a deep sleep. It was the night before she was to return home, and she couldn’t fathom why someone would be calling her now. She rolled over and dropped her pale hand on the antique nightstand. After a bit of aimless flailing, she finally grabbed her phone and held it up in front of her face. Squinting in the sudden brightness, she read the unfamiliar number. “The hell?” she wondered as she accepted the call. “Hello?” she croaked.

“Yes, is this Mrs. Reed?” a strange voice asked.

“It is,” Gilda replied with a yawn. “What can I do for you?”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to inform you of this over the phone, but it seems your husband and two children were involved in an accident a few hours ago.”

“What?” She sat up in bed, instantly more alert than she was a few seconds ago.   
“Are they ok? Why are you just now calling me?”

“I’m sorry, but we just now recovered your contact information, Mrs. Reed.”

“No, that’s impossible, Roger has all my info on his cell. It’s easy to access and doesn’t even require a passcode. If this is some kind of prank I’m calling the cops immediately. What, you think this is some kind of game, screwing with people like this?”

“Ma’am, I assure you this is no game. It took a long time to pull the car out and—”

“Wait, what? What do you mean pull the car out? Pull it out of what?”

“The lake, ma’am. It was submerged.”

“Lake? No, no Hank can’t swim.” At this point Gilda was running around the room throwing on whatever clothing she could find. “I’m getting on a plane. What hospital are they in?”

“They were taken to St. John’s Memorial, but Mrs. Reed, I should really inform you that your family didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”

“What?” she managed to choke out. “They didn’t, they’re not...” Tears escaped her green eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “Gina? Hank? Rog—” she gasped. “Roger?”

“No, ma’am. There were no survivors.”

“How?” Sobbing, she was full on sobbing now. “How could this happen?”

“It’s believed that your husband swerved to miss a truck and ran off the road into the lake. We—”

“You what?” she spit at the no name voice on the line.

“Well we found alcohol in his system, nearly double the legal limit.”

Slowly Gilda sunk to the floor and dropped the phone. She curled up, hugging her knees to her chest and shaking with each gut wrenching sob. Her reason for being had been stripped away in the time it took a stranger to tell her she no longer had a family to return to, and worse, that her own husband had killed them.

Gilda Reed’s world fell apart around her while a faceless stranger called her name from the discarded cell phone on the carpet a few feet away.


	2. Chapter 2

Two years later…

Alex Wade woke not to the sound of her alarm clock, but to the smell of brewing coffee in the air. Rolling over, she glanced at the red numbers casting a glow on the bedside table. “1:00a.m.? Seriously?” she groaned while throwing an arm across her eyes. “I’m getting too old for this crap.” Shuffling to the edge of the bed, Alex threw her legs over the side and sat up. Unfortunately, this was not an unusual occurrence in the Wade household. Her husband, Jack, was a detective for the precinct downtown and would often stay up late or wake in the middle of the night to go over his latest case once more, hoping to find something different that would crack it wide open.

Once she had woken up enough to stand without falling over, Alex twisted her dark hair into a messy bun and grabbed her robe from the hook hanging over the back of their bedroom door. As she made her way down the carpeted stairs, she could hear the grumble and drip of coffee percolating. Turning the corner, Alex looked across their small living room to the kitchen, and that’s when she saw him. Jack was sitting at the cherry breakfast table in front of his laptop with files spread open across the dark surface, and what appeared to be a now empty coffee cup, hence the fresh pot on the kitchen counter behind him. Jack had his head cradled in his hands, sleeves of a wrinkled white dress shirt rolled to his elbows, and a long forgotten blue tie hung loosely around his neck. 

“We found another one this morning,” he sighed quietly. “Another male, mid-thirties, found in his car, in a ditch, with his hands duct taped to the steering wheel.”

“Another drowning?” she asked while walking over to stand behind him. Alex massaged his shoulder gently before leaning forward to wrap her arms around him and kissing his neck lightly.

“By alcohol. Again,” he replied flatly. “Six kills in six months, and we’re no closer to finding the killer.”

Alex quickly scanned the screen in front of her. “Any suspects?” When the first murder occurred in late October, it had rocked the small town. Everyone was talking about it, wondering who could be responsible for such an act. Of course, when the victim is married, the spouse is always the first to be questioned, but the wife, Alice Page, had a rock solid alibi. She had been hosting book club at home, and when her husband didn’t come home at his usual time, a friend offered to stay until he arrived. After getting voicemail several times on her husband’s phone, Alice called the cops. Her husband was found two days later in his car off of Route 9. 

When the second murder occurred a month later, people began to get paranoid, glancing over their shoulders at every turn and traveling everywhere in groups. By the time the third body was found a week before Christmas, the novelty of it all had worn off, and now it seemed as though the only ones affected were the victims’ families and the local police department.

“Besides Jack Daniels and Jim Beam?” Jack huffed sarcastically while looking up and rubbing tired blue eyes. “No.”

“Well whoever it is,” Alex said as she grabbed his cup, “you’ll get him. You always do. Besides, they can’t be too smart, killing people in a town where you’re a detective.” She spoke confidently but frowned as she reached into the cabinet for her favorite red mug. This was taking longer than cases usually did to solve, and it was taking a toll on Jack. She couldn’t help but worry about the man. His dark hair was slowly being replaced by grey at his temples, and more and more it seemed as though the fine laugh lines around his mouth were being overshadowed by the deepening crease between his brows. As the liquid gold filled the two cups, she spoke again. “Jack?”

“Hmm?” 

“This won’t last forever you know.”

Jack turned in his seat to peer at his wife. She was young when they married, barely out of college, but her soul seemed so much older. He always wondered why she looked his way in the first place all those years ago. She had been waitressing at a local bar when they met, living on a scrap of a paycheck and saving tips to open her shop. Alex’s natural beauty ensured she made good money, not that she purposely flirted to make more, but customers were drawn back to the hole in the wall business week after week by her easy going personality and bright smile. Jack had been a beat cop for five years at the time, and a particularly difficult call sent him seeking the solace of a good buzz when his shift ended that afternoon. After his third glass of bourbon, Alex took it upon herself to replace his fourth drink with a beer instead and later drove him home while he gave directions and grumbled about being perfectly capable of making it himself. 

“You’re not walking ten blocks in the rain, and there’s no way I’m letting you drive like this,” she’d finally shot at him from her spot in the driver’s seat. “I don’t think you want to ruin your career, do you? Now shut up and ride.” Jack doesn’t remember the rest of the ride home, or her helping him into his second floor apartment, but he’ll never forget waking up the next morning with a pounding head and seeing a bottle of yellow Gatorade and two Tylenol on his nightstand beside an old envelope. 

I had a friend follow me here in your car. Don’t worry, she didn’t wreck it, and your keys are in the kitchen beside the sink. I locked up before I left. You weren’t a total ass last night, but try and be more careful, huh? Take care. –A 

He showed up at the bar again that night, but instead of drowning his sorrows, he asked her to dinner. She, of course, said no, but he wasn’t deterred. He began showing up again each night after that. The thirteenth time she saw him saunter in, she walked over, slapped her hand down on the bar in front of him, and told him if he really wanted to go out, it would be at a place and time of her own choosing. With that, she turned on her heel and was just about to leave when he reached for her hand. “Whatever you want, whenever you want,” he said. “As long as it’s with you, I don’t care what I do.” Jack waited with baited breath as she stared him down. Slowly, a bright grin spread across her face and she shook her head.

“Whatever you say, old man.” She leaned in closer and whispered so only he could hear, “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Then Alex pulled out of his grasp and got back to work. 

Later that evening he was waiting for her by the bar as she began clearing empty bottles and glasses from the tables. “Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to grab a broom?” she asked, staring at him pointedly.

“I thought I was an old man?” he retorted.

“Not too old to flirt with a bar maid, so I figure you’re young enough to help her get out of here a little sooner so she can show you what a real date is like.”

Jack barked a laugh and started sweeping the old scarred floor. Soon they were out the door and walking up the street towards a local fast food chain. Alex ordered two strawberry shakes and a large order of fries to go, and dragged him back down the street and behind the bar. 

“Technically we’re not supposed to be back here,” she said, “but the roof has a great view.”

“The roof?” 

“Yes, the roof. We’re climbing up there.” 

“How? I don’t see a ladder anywhere,” he said looking around the alleyway.

“You’ll see,” she chuckled, tossing the empty food sack into an old dumpster. As he watched, she hopped onto the closed lid and grabbed an old pipe running up the brick wall. She used the pipe to pull herself up as she scaled the wall with her sneakers. Once at the top, she turned and crouched at the edge. “Did you see how I got up here?” He nodded. “Good. Now just put your foot right there, grab hold of the bar, and pull yourself up.” 

Unsure as he was, Jack did as she said and followed Alex up the one story building to the roof. Once there, he dusted himself off and took a look around. She was sitting on the edge of the building above the front door, and he took a seat beside her. The neon glow of the sign below their feet cast just enough of a shine to highlight her features, and he took a moment to really take her in. Alex’s long, denim clad legs were kicking softly against the wall, the rubber soles of her shoes bouncing off the hard brick, and her plain, black t-shirt hugged her curves. Her chestnut hair had been swept up into a loose ponytail when she climbed onto the roof, but she had since taken it down so that it hung loosely down her back. She wore minimal makeup, but she didn’t really need it either. Her dark eyes shone brightly, even in the darkness, and a soft smile played on her lips. It was a picture that would forever be seared into Jack’s mind. 

From that moment on, they were inseparable. The two spent as much time together as humanly possible, and, though there was an eight year difference in their ages, they never ran out of things to talk about. It came as no surprise when he proposed six months later, and the two were married shortly after. That had been six, almost seven years ago.

“Jack? Jack, honey? Are you still with me?” Her soft voice brought him back to the present, and Jack shook his head lightly, focusing on her once more. While he was daydreaming, she had moved to stand in front of him, steaming mugs of coffee in her hands. 

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said locking eyes with her. Alex cocked her head to the side and lowered her brows.

“Ok. Come on, old man,” she chided, placing his cup on the counter behind her and resting a hand on her hip. “Off to bed. You won’t be worth anything at work today if you don’t get some rest.”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” he countered. “Besides, you don’t look like you’re going to sleep anytime soon, so why should I?”

“You know I can’t go back to sleep after I get up. Once I’m up, I’m up. That’s just how I’ve always been. Besides, I’ve got some things around here I need to catch up on, and I could look over your files, see if I can find a pattern you may have missed somewhere.”

“Yeah, a fresh set of eyes would probably be good.” He rose from his seat and stretched. “Let me know if you find anything,” he said kissing her lightly and turning to head upstairs.

“And don’t forget to take those dirty clothes off before you fall into bed!” She called after him. Jack just waved over his head in response and kept walking. “Ass,” she mumbled fondly, smirking at his retreat. Alex slid onto the blue upholstered seat and sighed while cracking her neck side to side. She had a knack for seeing patterns and details which may slip past others, and occasionally Jack would ask for her help looking over cases. This talent had aided her when she was a waitress because she could read people and situations well, oftentimes diffusing arguments before they had a chance to reach bar brawl levels, and again when she opened Curly Q’s because she could spot trends and adjust her stock based on what people were and were not purchasing. Over the years she had honed her skills, keeping her business flourishing and customers coming back for more. 

Picking up the folder closest to her and reading over the first few pages, Alex took in the details of the victim’s appearance and life in general. When nothing immediately jumped out at her, Alex reached for the next file searching for the same details and then comparing the two side by side. Finding nothing in common between the two, she repeated the process again and again until she had each victim analyzed and cross referenced with the others. 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” she breathed. She couldn’t find a common factor between all six victims other than they were all males who had been drinking the nights they disappeared. “Different places, different circumstances, different jobs. None of them even look alike! The only way they’re even linked is how they were killed.” 

Alex took a sip of her now cold coffee and grimaced. “Ugh, gross.” She got up and stuck the mug into the microwave, setting the timer for one minute, and leant against the counter while wrapping her robe more tightly around herself. There had to be more to the story, some kind of motive they hadn’t discovered yet, that would lead to some kind of similarity. No matter what, each case Jack had worked had always had a pattern. This one was no different, it couldn’t be. The sudden beeping of the microwave jolted her from her thoughts. Turning around to retrieve the mug, Alex stopped. She looked back over her shoulder towards the workspace she had taken over fro Jack and frowned once more. “I’m gonna need some paper to organize this a little better.”

_____________

Dean Winchester woke to the sound of a knock on his bedroom door. He wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth and propped himself up on one arm. “What? Dude, I was sleeping!”

Sam walked in, laptop in one hand and steaming mug of coffee in the other. “I found us a case,” he said, holding the cup out to his brother.

Dean sat on the edge of his bed and eyed Sam before taking the mug. He blew gently across the liquid before taking a small sip. “Mmm,” he grunted as the liquid burned its way down his throat. “What are you even doing up?” 

Sam took a seat at the desk and opened his laptop. “Couldn’t sleep, so I started researching cases for us when this popped up.” Dean narrowed his gaze as Sam turned toward the screen. “’Sixth Murder in Six Months Baffles Police,’” he read aloud. “Looks like a different guy has been murdered once a month, every month, since last October.”

“So?”

“So, the victims were found in their cars on the side of the road with extremely high levels of alcohol in their blood. And get this, cause of death? Drowning, in alcohol.” 

Dean nodded. “Sounds witchy. Where is it?”

“A small town south of Nashville. What do you say? If we leave now, we can be there by this afternoon,” Sam said with a hopeful expression. 

Dean pressed his lips together for a moment as he stared at his brother. “Fine. Get your gear together and meet me in the garage in thirty.” Sam gathered his things and headed for the door, but Dean’s voice stopped him. “Oh, and Sam?”

He turned towards the voice. “Yeah?”

Dean stopped himself from having a heart to heart with his younger brother. Truth was, he was worried about the guy. Sam didn’t have much time to process Eileen’s death when it happened, but now that things had slowed down some, he was beginning to really feel the pain, and it showed. He was always up, always going, or researching, or running, or whatever the hell it was he did at 3:00a.m. “Nothing, just uh, make some more coffee to go, huh? We’ve got a long ways to go, and I want to actually enjoy it instead of having to rush through a cup.”

Sam huffed a laugh and nodded as he headed out the door and down the hallway. Dean wiped a hand down his face before standing and putting the mug on his desk. He groaned as he stretched, muscles popping loudly. “I’m getting too old for this,” he grumbled.

_____________

Light was just beginning to creep through the sheer white curtains across the breakfast table when Alex finished putting away the last of her husband’s files, and she took a moment to stare out the windows. Dawn had always been Alex’s favorite time of day, and she reveled in the stillness of the earth. It was a time when the night was receding and the day had yet to begin, a time in which neither the sun or moon ruled the sky. The whole world seemed to stand still, holding its breath with the anticipation of a new day. Spring had come early this year, and she watched as the rising sun lit up the leaves of an old oak in the backyard. Something about this time of day reminded her of new beginnings, a fresh start, a chance to atone for the mistakes of the previous day.

Alex took a deep breath and, grabbing a notepad and pen, quickly jotted down a list of things she had to get done today. “Start at the beginning, and work your way down,” she mumbled to herself. “Ok. Easiest tasks first. Hmm…breakfast can wait til A.J. gets up, but I need to go ahead and pack her bag for daycare, then gather our lunches together. Lord only knows what Jack will eat if I don’t go ahead and make something.” Getting up, she went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Add ‘groceries’ to the list,” she said, glancing at the sparse items on the shelves. “Looks like we’ll be doing the soup thing today.” Shutting the door, Alex turned and opened the pantry a few steps away instead. “Oh yeah, definitely need more food,” she admitted and grabbed a couple of cans of Progresso and a small pack of crackers. 

“Are you talking to yourself again?”

“Jeez!” Alex squeaked and turned around, hitting her elbow sharply on the door frame as she did so. “What the hell are you doing up so early?” she asked, rubbing her injured arm. “You just went to bed a few hours ago, Jack!”

“Well I woke up when I rolled over and didn’t have you to cuddle with,” he laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.  
“Yeah, ok. Whatever, dude. You get soup and crackers for lunch today, old man.” She tossed the two items over to him and grinned as he fumbled and dropped the plastic sleeve of crackers. “Getting slow in your old age.”

“Nah, just making you feel better for bumping your arm earlier,” he retorted. “Need me to go on a food run after work?”

“No, thanks. I’ll go on lunch today and stuff what I can in the fridge at work. I need to clean it out anyway. Some of Jessica’s stuff in there looks more like a science experiment than food. Breakfast?” she asked, reaching into a cabinet for a box of cereal.

“Only if you’ve got some of that coffee left.” Jack walked into the hall and placed his lunch on the small table beside the coat rack, but as he turned to go back into the kitchen he noticed a small, brown package in the corner by the front door. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, noting the feather light feel. It seemed oddly familiar for some reason, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. “Babe?” he called, returning to the kitchen. “What’s this?” He held the tiny box up for her to see and raised a brow as she turned.

“Oh that’s just a package for one of my customers at work,” she replied. “This woman comes in every so often and special orders a charm for her bracelet. It was supposed to be delivered to the shop, but I put in our home address by mistake. Why?”

“Nothing, I just thought it looked familiar is all.” He looked down at it and frowned, unable to shake the negative feeling it gave him. “I’ll just put it back where you had it then.”

“Can you bring A.J.’s bag back in here when you do, please?”

“Yeah, sure.” He returned the package to its previous home and gave it one last glance before retrieving the diaper bag and joining Alex in the kitchen once more.   
“So,” he said as he dropped the bag and leaned against the cool marble counter, “did you find anything in the case files?”

“I’m sorry, Jack. There doesn’t seem to be any kind of connection between the victims.” Alex placed a hand on his crossed forearms and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure you’ll get a break soon. Look, you’ll get him.” He looked down at her with a skeptical expression. “What? Don’t look at me like that. You will!”

Jack appeared less than convinced but leaned down and quickly locked lips with his wife. She always tried to make the best of situations, somehow lessening the load for her loved ones who were dealing with difficulties, and he loved that about her. “I’m gonna go shower and get ready for the day.” He patted her hand gently before pulling away and shuffling towards the stairs.

“You always get them in the end,” Alex whispered in the now empty kitchen. She closed her eyes and stood there for another moment, listening to his footsteps on the floor above as he went through his daily routine. Better eat now, she thought. A.J. would be up soon and require all of her attention, and she wouldn’t get another chance until later in the day. 

She grabbed her abandoned bowl and, pulling a spoon from the drawer, headed back towards her original spot at the breakfast table. After scarfing down what she could of the cereal she had poured for herself, Alex rinsed the few dishes in the sink, loaded them into the dishwasher, and hurried up the stairs to throw on some clothes for the day.

Alex Wade had a lot to do today


	3. Chapter 3

Alex’s phone rang just as she pulled her ’72 Pontiac GTO into her usual spot beside the shop. Digging in her purse on the leather seat beside her, she managed to pull her cell out before whoever was calling could change their mind. “Oh boy,” she mumbled as she put it to her ear. “Jessica! What a surprise! I know you aren’t calling me because you’re running late again, right?”

“Alex, look, I’m really sorry, but—” A crash in the background interrupted the woman and a quiet “ouch” was heard.

“Jess? Jess, you okay?” 

More shuffling sounds before Jessica came back onto the line. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” she breathed. “I left my gym bag by the garage door last night and managed to catch the strap with my heel somehow. Go figure, am I right?”

“Certainly doesn’t sound like something you’d do,” Alex replied sarcastically. Her best friend had a habit of running into, knocking over, and otherwise upsetting her surroundings. “I can only assume you’re calling because you decided to get us both coffee on your way in this morning and need my order.”

“Um, well, actually, Lex. See—”

“I was joking, Jess. Just get here as soon as you can, okay? And be careful!” she said with a grin. “We’ve got a lot to do today, but you’re no good to me in the hospital.”

“I’m always careful! It’s not my fault things get in my way of being fabulous. See ya shortly, loser!” Jessica screamed into the phone and hung up.

“Weirdo.” Alex gathered her things and stepped out of the car, hip-checking the door shut. She strutted up the sidewalk to the front of Curly Q’s and slid a key into the old brass lock. It turned smoothly and she smiled as it clicked. Giving a gentle push, she took a deep breath and entered her favorite space. Most people had hobbies, and they had jobs. Some people even had jobs they liked. Alex considered herself to be one of the lucky ones who got to make a living doing what they loved. She’d always had a knack for giftwrapping, and she enjoyed acquiring interesting finds, so when she was a teen she decided to start saving up to one day open her own gift shop. 

Her foster parents had their doubts, however, and pushed Alex to go to college. “Just as a backup plan,” her foster dad, Steve Jones, had insisted one night after a long argument. “What if this idea of yours doesn’t work out, huh? You’ll want something to fall back on, and it’s our job to make sure you’re prepared for the real world.”

He and his wife June were old school and liked things done a very specific, very boring, type of way. Both accountants in their mid-fifties, they worked out of a dusty, two room office crammed in between a couple of larger buildings on the lesser traveled side of town. Stepping inside felt like stepping into the seventies, complete with wood paneling and faded orange shag carpet covering the floor.   
They adopted her just after she turned six, hoping to mold the child into an exact copy of themselves, but they ended up having the exact opposite of Alex’s easy, go with the flow personality, resulting in numerous fights throughout the years.   
In the end though, she agreed and instead of gearing up for a job she loved, began funneling all her energy into getting enough scholarships to pay for a couple of years at the local community college. When she refused to get anything more than an associates degree in “business management” the Joneses kicked her out and severed ties with her completely, stating they had tried to raise her, but she was a lost cause without any hope of a successful future. Alex lived out of her car for two weeks before Jessica, who was waitressing at the same bar, found out and insisted she stay with her instead.

Alex’s heart gave a slight twinge at the thought of the strange couple, not that she missed them necessarily, but they did take her in after her mom left, and she harbored no ill will towards them. She had thought about looking them up when she got engaged, and again when A.J. was born, but she always found a reason not to. “Everyone leaves eventually,” she sighed. “It’s just a matter of time.” Alex never met her biological father, and she wasn’t sure that her mother even knew who he was. She saw several men come and go in their lives, and then one day, her mother left with one and never came back. The next day Alex, hungry and lonely, showed up on her neighbor’s doorstep rambling about how she thought her mom had ridden to the laundry mat with her boyfriend because she had a bag of clothes with her when she left, but now she wasn’t so sure because her mom always came home by the time the school bus ran the next morning. 

From that point on, Alex tried to make as few lasting relationships as possible. Friends, teachers, boys—it didn’t matter who it was, she always found a reason to move on, pull back, and keep her walls built high around her heart. Jessica had been the first person she’d ever really let in, crying on her couch one night shortly after Jessica had asked her to move in permanently. About a year later she met Jack, and he made her think that maybe she could trust people, but that little voice was always in the back of her mind. Even now that they were married and had a kid, it occasionally reminded her that he could still get tired of dealing with her and leave.

Alex’s mind had been wandering aimlessly through these various thoughts as she went about turning on the lights and preparing to open the shop for the day. She was just finishing rearranging a display of items available for monogramming when Jessica stumbled in. “She lives!” Alex exclaimed, feigning shock at her friend’s entrance.

“Nah, I just want you to think I’m alive,” Jessica replied with nonchalance. “I’ve actually been a figment of your imagination this entire time.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you. It all makes sense now.” Alex smiled to herself as Jessica clocked in and put her purse behind the counter. She enjoyed their innocent banter. To someone who didn’t know the girls, it would probably appear as bickering most of the time, but it was just their type of humor.

“Hey did you hear about the latest murder?” Jessica asked while tying her apron.

“Yeah. Apparently he was found yesterday. Jack is pretty broken up about it. He blames himself you know.”

“That’s ridiculous! It’s not like he’s going out and killing those people.” Jessica’s eyes shot to Alex’s face. “He’s not, right?”

Alex glanced at her friend. “You can’t be serious. Jess, you know my husband isn’t doing this.”

“Yeah, well it would explain why they still don’t have any suspects.” At Alex’s bewildered expression she continued, “What? It does! Think about it, the lead detective is the perfect cover for a murder spree. No one would ever suspect him.”

“You seriously need to get a new theory working before people actually start believing that nonsense. Can you grab that other bag for me?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Jessica replied as the bell above the door jingled. Both turned their heads as the new customer entered.

“Welcome to Curly Q’s!” Alex sang out. “Is there anything I can help you find today?”

“I’m looking for a gift for my wife,” the squat, balding man replied while wiping scratching his forehead and pushing his hat back a bit. “Her birthday is tomorrow, and I know she likes those frilly smelling candles you sell.”

“Well let me just show you our selection, and you can pick something out for her. It’s right over here.” Alex pointed a hand in the direction of the Scent Section.   
“We’ll finish this discussion later,” she added to Jessica in a whisper. She then started back towards the man now staring questionably at the rows and rows of candles in front of him. “So, what type of scents does your wife usually like to burn at home?”

_____________

They were still a couple hundred miles out when Dean reached over and turned down the radio. “So tell me more about this case,” he said, glancing over at Sam in the passenger seat.

Sam straightened as Dean addressed him. He had been trapped in his thoughts when his brother’s voice broke through and saved him. “Uh, there’s not much to tell. Every month a guy ends up dead, and the cops have no leads.”

“Okay, but you said once a month, so, what? Is it like a lunar based ritual? Maybe the witch is sacrificing souls for a power boost?”

“Could be, but we won’t know for sure until we get there and take a look around,” Sam answered, running a hand over his hair.

“Well let’s get there, then,” Dean smirked as he popped in a Zeppelin tape. Baby’s engine roared as he pushed harder on the gas, and she pulled ahead of the other cars on the road.

_____________

More patrons came and went as the day wore on, and at a quarter til eleven Alex had gotten far enough in her work to head to lunch a few minutes early. Loosening her apron, she called to Jessica who was stocking some shelves at the front of the store. “Hey, I’m going to pick up a few groceries on my lunch break, so I’ll most likely grab a sandwich from the deli a few blocks over on my way back. You want anything?” 

“Actually I’d kill for one of their banana pudding parfaits,” she replied with a grin.

“Dude, not funny,” Alex scowled, placing a hand on her hip. “Some guy just died.”

“Oh come on!” Jessica picked up another box and sat it on the table behind her. “It was just a joke, Lex. Hey, don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not giving you a look,” she said as she hiked her purse higher onto her shoulder and headed for the front door. “All I’m saying is that a little sensitivity goes a long way. You never know who could be walking through the front door.” As if on cue the bell above the entrance rang out, signifying a new visitor. “Gilda!” Alex called, turning to face their newest customer with a smile. 

“Alex Wade, I swear you must have eyes hiding under those gorgeous dark waves of yours.” The fiery haired woman cocked her head and, leaning in a bit, peered at her. “Tell me, how do you always know it’s me?” she asked.

“I can hear your charms jingling when you move,” Alex laughed. “They usually announce your presence before I can catch a glimpse of you.”

“Oh!” She straightened up a bit. “Well I suppose that makes sense. They are awful noisy. And how are you ladies doing today?”

“Fine,” they replied in unison, casting glances at each other and bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Sorry about that,” Alex apologized. “My husband gives us a hard time for talking like that. He says it happens too often for people who aren’t siblings.”

“Your husband makes fun of you?” Gilda questioned, green eyes growing wide.

“No! No it’s not like that. We tease each other sometimes. It’s all in fun, really,” she explained.

“They joke back and forth all the time. It’s not a big deal,” Jessica spoke over her shoulder, having returned to her previous task.

“Of course not,” Gilda threw out with a half-smile. “So, is it here?” she asked, looking to Alex expectantly.

“Is what—Oh! Right, I almost forgot. Your charm came in yesterday. Here let me get it for you.” She jogged back to the counter and dug underneath the cash register for a moment before popping up again with a small brown package about the size of a deck of cards in her hands. “It actually came to the house by mistake. I guess I put in the wrong address when I ordered it,” Alex commented while breaking the seal and removing the wrapped object. 

Gilda Reed approached the counter and took the item from Alex’s hand. She turned the tiny silver charm over and squinted just a bit to see it more clearly. “What do you think?” Alex asked, leaning on both forearms.

A slow smile spread across Gilda’s face as she looked up and said, “It’s perfect.” She nodded her head once, a stray curl falling from the bun on top of her head as she did so, and opened the clasp holding the bracelet together.

“So I have to ask,” Alex said as she watched the woman attach her newest addition to the chain. “Why the eyeglasses? I mean, most of the others I can understand, but I’ve never seen you wearing glasses before.”

“It’s kind of personal. You wouldn’t understand if I told you,” Gilda said scrunching her face.

“I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds, I was just curious,” Alex explained, hands now raised in front of herself in a placating manner. “Do you want to take the box home? If not I can trash it for you.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you. See you next time, Alex.” With that Gilda turned on her heel and exited the store.

“What a weirdo,” Jessica said looking out the display window. “What do you think her story is anyway?”

“I don’t know. She’s always been pretty nice to me, if a little fake. I think she moved here about a year ago, but other than that I have no idea.”

“Yeah, but like, no one knows her story, and believe me, I’ve asked around. She doesn’t socialize with anyone in town. It’s like she just appeared out of nowhere one day.”

Alex moved to stand beside Jessica up front once more. “Maybe she’s just shy, or really private. You never know. Hey,” she nudged her friend’s shoulder, “why do you care so much?”

“I don’t know,” Jessica answered, eyes still fixed on the busy street outside. “She just makes me uncomfortable for some reason.”

“Yeah, I noticed how you keep conversation with her to a minimum.”

“I’m telling you, Lex, that woman is creepy.”

“Well she only comes in every so often, and tell you what, how about I deal with her from now on? Whenever she does show up again, you just find something to do and let me handle it. Deal?” Alex held out her pinky.

Smirking, Jessica linked her pinky with Alex’s. “Deal,” she said. “Now how about lunch?”

“How about we flip the sign on that door for the next hour and I buy you some banana pudding?” Alex offered, raising her brow.

“Weren’t you going shopping?” she asked.

“Eh,” Alex shrugged. “It can wait til later. I’m feeling some girl talk.”

“You had me at pudding,” Jessica smiled.

The girls headed out and locked up behind them, chatting excitedly as they walked down the street towards the crosswalk at the foot of the small hill. They were unaware, however, that as they watched for oncoming cars and jogged across the road, someone else was watching them. 

Gilda Reed stepped out from the shadow of an awning, finishing off a vanilla ice cream cone and looking over the top of her sunglasses. Tossing the now sticky paper napkin into a nearby trash can, she turned in the opposite direction, a direction that would lead her towards the local police department. She had noticed a detective last week having a few beers with his partner. After moving closer and listening in on the conversation for a few minutes, she had found out that this man was married with at least one child. That was enough to pique her interest, but when she followed him home and saw who he was married to, she decided right then and there that he had to go, and soon. She adjusted the gleaming bracelet on her arm and drew back her shoulders, mentally preparing herself for the next task on her to-do list.

Gilda Reed had a long afternoon ahead of her.


	4. Chapter 4

Ok, so maybe waiting til after work to go to the grocery store wasn’t such a good idea after all, Alex thought as she pulled into the packed parking lot. She coasted down the aisles searching for an open space in which to park her black GTO when she spotted an old Buick inching it’s way backwards out of a space. 

“Yes!” she cheered quietly, easing to a stop while simultaneously lowering the volume on the Zeppelin IV cd she had playing. She’d had the cd player installed shortly after buying the car. It took away from the classic feel, but Alex loved all kinds of music and had to have something that was compatible with newer formats. 

“Come on, sugar,” she mumbled to herself as she watched the blue-haired lady slowly back out. “Just a little more. Come on, you can do it. There you go.” As soon as the boat of a car was clear, Alex hit the gas and whipped into the space. The cars on either side had to park a little further away in order to accommodate the older lady’s car, and Alex stretched as she stepped out, smiling softly with the knowledge that her car would be safe from people looking to ding the glossy paintjob.

She walked through the automatic doors and grabbed a buggy before reaching into her back pocket of her jeans for the list and pen she had stashed there earlier. As she rounded the corner her basket rammed right into the side of another woman’s cart. “Oh shoot! I’m so sorry!” she sputtered before she recognized the woman staring back at her. 

“Alex Wade!” the petite blonde exclaimed. “I’ve been asking Bill when we could invite you and Jack over for weeks now, and here you stand! How’s that little one of yours?”

“She’s good, Ramona, doing really good. It’s been too long since we last saw each other,” Alex smiled. Ramona Gracin was married to Jack’s partner, Bill, and the two couples often went out to dinner together before A.J. was born. After the Wades became parents, though, they didn’t get as many opportunities to go out. It had been several months since they had all gone out for the night. Alex genuinely enjoyed chatting with the excitable older woman, as her emotions were often infectious and left others feeling lighter after interacting with her.

“Bill said another guy was found yesterday.” Ramona lowered her voice and leaned in so as to keep other customers from hearing the conversation. “How’s Jack taking it?” Being a fellow wife of a detective, Ramona knew what it was like to deal with the impact of a difficult case on her husband, so Alex found it incredibly easy to confide in her if need be.

“He’s struggling, to be honest,” Alex sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, he was so laser focused when it first happened that I didn’t think he’d have any trouble, but now…” She trailed off, looking down at the faded red plastic handle of the cart. “Now I’m not so sure. After the third body he started getting so beat down whenever they’d find another guy, and it’s like all he can see is the negatives. This might be the worst I’ve ever seen him while working on a case.”

“Maybe he just needs to take some time off,” Ramona suggested.

Alex looked up with bugged out eyes. “Jack take time off in the middle of a case? Are you nuts?!” she exclaimed. At her outburst, several people turned and gave her weird looks. “He’d throw a fit,” she continued more quietly.

“You never know, it might do him some good. He needs to relax some before this thing consumes him. It’s not good for him or you,” Ramona said pointedly.

“He’s not going to let this go until he has the murderer behind bars, Mona. No matter what it takes, he will get his man.”

“Well, don’t let it get you, too, sweetie.” Ramona backed away and smiled at Alex.   
“It was really good seeing you.”

“Yeah, you too. See ya.” 

Alex continued on with her shopping, but the short conversation weighed heavily on her mind as she dodged the other patrons. She knew Jack would adamantly refuse any mention of a vacation right now, but she had to do something. Reaching the meat section, she had an idea. Alex grabbed a couple of steaks and headed back towards the produce for the ingredients she would need. It was time to figure out if the way to a man’s heart was really through his stomach.

Alex finally gathered the remaining items on her list and battled the long lines at the registers before finally stepping outside with her winnings. As she neared her car she caught sight of who she thought looked a lot like Gilda Reed in her car a few rows over from where the GTO was parked. “Twice in one day,” she said under her breath, smiling and giving a nod as the two locked eyes. Gilda just stared back. “Odd, but okay.”

She loaded the bags into the trunk and hopped in, cranking the engine. As the opening rifts of “Stairway to Heaven” began playing, Alex backed out of the space and put the car into drive, pulling smoothly away from the stress-inducing crowd of people all rushing to get their errands done at the same time. She started singing along to the hypnotic lyrics, the music already lifting her spirits considerably, and she was determined to have the same effect on her husband later that night. 

Alex sped down the highway towards the daycare to pick up A.J. and threw on the turn signal just as the small brick building came into view. She smiled as she turned into the gravel parking lot, seeing several kids playing in the fenced in area at the side of the building. She left the car running and entered the access code at the door. Stepping inside she greeted the owner, Mrs. Johnson, behind the desk and logged into the computer on the counter.

“I still can’t get used to using her full name everyday,” she grinned at Mrs. Johnson, “but I do like the upgrades you made to the system.”

“Well we figured it was time to get with the times and go digital,” she replied, pushing her glasses into her silver hair. “It’s supposedly the most secure system available.”

“I can definitely get behind that.” Call her paranoid, but Alex was always worried that one of Jack’s old cases would sneak up on him by targeting their daughter.   
Scrolling down the list, Alex found “Andrea Jordan Wade” and clicked, then entered her password. A.J.’s name changed from red to blue on the screen, and the time popped up in the column beside it. When Alex found out she was pregnant, she and Jack argued for months on a name. She wanted it to begin with an “A” for her name, and he wanted a “J” for Jack, hence the nickname they finally settled on. 

Alex walked down the narrow hallway leading to the backdoor, passing the large glass windows of the classrooms to her right. She turned the knob and stepped back out into the sun, hearing a loud “Mama!” as she did so. A.J. was running towards her from the swings, tennis shoes slipping in the loose pea gravel with each step. Alex opened her arms and just managed to stay upright as A.J. hit her hard, latching onto her mother’s neck. 

“Hi, baby! How was your day?”   
A.J. rattled off some unintelligible response in reply while sticking one hand in the pocket of her lightweight jacket and pointing with the other to another kid. 

Alex looked to one of the teachers on the bench beside them with a questioning expression. “Did you get that?” she asked.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” the young woman replied while twisting her hair into a bun on top of her head. “I can understand some things she says, but that was all Greek.”

“Well alright then, A.J.,” Alex said picking up her daughter. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

“Ok. Tell everybody bye.”

“Bye!” A.J. said loudly, waving to her teachers. 

They walked back inside and stopped to grab the diaper bag from A.J.’s cubby in her classroom. They once again went through the goodbyes to Mrs. Johnson at the front desk, and once in the parking lot, Alex loaded A.J. into her car seat. “Ready to go see Daddy?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Ok, let’s go.” Alex slid back into the car and together they headed for home.

_____________

Jack Wade pushed away from his desk with a sigh. It had been a long day what with all the new evidence to go through, and, after last night’s case-induced insomnia, he was just plain wore out. 

“Hey, you about ready to head out of here?” his partner, Bill Gracin, asked.

“I don’t know, man,” Jack replied, rubbing his temples. A couple of FBI agents showed up earlier to look into the case, which only added to the amount of crap he had to do, and staring at a computer and paperwork all day had given him nothing short of a splitting migraine. He could feel Bill staring him down, but he refused to open his eyes and face the man. He was an intuitive SOB and could read people as well as the back of a cereal box, but that’s what made him such a great detective.

“Tell you what,” Bill said, rapping his knuckles on the metal desk, “how about I buy you a beer, huh? You look like you could use it.”

Jack opened his eyes and glared at the old fart. Bill stood there, all five foot eight inches of him, in a grey suit that had seen better days and a white button up sans tie—he couldn’t stand the things—with his arms crossed and grinning like the cat that ate the cream. He knew exactly what he was doing. He had trained Jack back in the day when he was just starting out on the force, and the two later became partners when he made detective. They made a good pair; Jack was young, a fast learner, and full of energy, and Bill had fifteen years of experience as a detective and was patient when on the job, but now, five years later, he was nearing retirement, and soon it would be Jack breaking in new recruits. 

“Bill,” Jack started, “I really don’t need this right now.” 

“Jack,” the man countered in the same tone, “you need to step back from the case. Just for a few hours.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Who’ve you been gossiping with, old timer?”

“I don’t gossip, Jay. I read,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’s better for the brain,” he added, tapping his temple lightly.

“Was it Alex?”

“She may or may not have run into Mona at the grocery store today. Apparently she’s pretty concerned about you.”

“Crap,” Jack said, leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk. “Just what I need is her getting all worked up. So beers, huh? Was this her idea or yours?”

“Oh that’s all me, kid. Course, I could use one myself. They’re good for the kidneys, you know.” Bill winked. “So you in or out? I want to get going so I can get home and see what Mona is cooking for dinner.”

“Let me just call and tell Alex I’ll be a few minutes late.” He turned the chair and grabbed the receiver. Dialing her number, he waited and listened.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, babe, it’s me.”

“Hey, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, everything’s fine. I’m just letting you know I’m gonna be a few minutes late tonight. Old Bill here wants to get a beer.” Jack looked up at Bill who was now sitting on the edge of the desk, eavesdropping on the conversation and still grinning.

“Oh ok. Don’t stay out too late though. I’ve got a couple of ribeye steaks marinating.”

“I’ll only have one, two max. Promise. Then I’ll head your way,” he said while toying with a pen.

“Be careful, and I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Love you, Alex.”

“I love you, too, babe.”

Jack hung up the phone. Bill was still grinning at him. “I love you, too, babe,” he mocked.

“Shut up and move, old man, before you catch pneumonia or something.” Jack stood and grabbed his coat, putting it on as they walked to the door.

Jack followed Bill’s white Honda Accord to a nearby bar they would often visit for a couple of drinks or a quick bite to eat. The place looked more like a shack than anything, with it’s old wooden exterior and sagging porch, but it served cold beer and good food and had a quiet atmosphere without all the young college kids making a fuss. All in all, it was a pretty good place to just sit and relax. 

They parked on the cracked asphalt and headed inside, Bill leading the way once more. He opted for a booth in the corner instead of their usual spot at the bar, and once again, Jack knew what the guy wanted. He shed his jacket and slid into the seat across from Bill. Propping his elbows on the table, Jack raised a brow at his partner. 

“You want food? I’m starving,” Bill said, turning to see the menu posted above the bar. 

“I thought Ramona was cooking?” 

“She is, but I need a little something to tide me over til then.” Just then, the waitress, a middle aged woman with dyed black hair pulled back into a ponytail, walked up to their table and pulled out a pen and pad.

“What can I get you gentlemen?” she asked.

“I’ll take a beer from the tap and a plate of nachos,” Bill said.

“Okay, and for you?” She turned to Jack.

“Just a beer for me.”

“No food?” Bill questioned.

“Not this time. Alex is cooking steaks. Thanks,” he told the waitress, and she nodded before disappearing to get their drinks.

“So,” Bill stated. 

“So,” Jack quickly countered.

“Don’t make me pull it out of you, kid. I’m not getting any younger.”

Jack pointed a finger at the man. “And I’m not doing the touchy-feely emotional exposition.” The waitress returned with their beers, causing both men to sit back. They both smiled at her as she placed the drinks on a couple of paper coasters and turned to leave.

“You’re not okay, Jack,” Bill said. “Alex can see it, I can see it, hell the whole department can see what this case is doing to you.”

“So what? I’m just supposed to take off in the middle of a case while some freaking serial killer is running around out there looking for more victims, is that it?” Jack seethed.

“You’re supposed to keep a balanced head before someone in the office tells you to take a leave,” Bill insisted. “You’re supposed to take care of yourself so you can take care of that wife and kid at home.”

Jack took a long pull from his beer and stared down at the condensation on the dark glass. “I feel like those men’s deaths are my fault. Maybe not the first one, but all the others? That blood is on my hands. Their families are without a husband and father because I can’t seem to catch the psychopath doing all this.”

“You aren’t responsible for every bad thing that happens, Jay.” The older man leaned forward and grabbed Jack’s wrist, causing him to meet his eyes. “You can’t carry that with you. You’ll never be able to move on if you do. You’ve got heart, kid, but you have to be strong enough to let go.” He released his hold and studied Jack’s now downturned face. So much weight was on the kid’s shoulders, and it showed clearly in the pained lines of his expression. 

Jack finished his beer and stood, grabbing his wallet and retrieving some cash. “Maybe I’m not as strong as you think I am,” he said and threw the money on the table. “I’ll see you Monday.” 

Bill leaned back in his seat as the waitress brought his nachos over. “Your friend leave already?” she asked watching Jack head for the exit.

“Yeah, he only had a few minutes.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do, miss. Thanks.”

Jack burst through the door and into the cool twilight air. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and he paced in the waning light. He didn’t mean to get so worked up, but he had also told Bill he didn’t want to talk about his feelings either. Jack stopped at his car and took a deep breath, resting his forehead on the metal roof. Alex. He should probably call her before Bill does. 

He fished around in his jacket and pulled out his phone. Scrolling through the contacts, he selected her name and turned to lean his back against the driver’s side door with the phone against his ear.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way home.” He crossed his arms and kicked at a stray rock on the pavement.

“Okay,” Alex said slowly. “Are you alright?”

“No. Bill got me to talking about the case and I just, I don’t know. It hit me hard and I got upset. I may have left in a less than polite way.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m standing in the parking lot. I just needed to hear your voice.”

“I’m here, honey. You know you can always talk to me,” she cooed.

“Yeah, I know.” He stared out across the parking lot to the road where a woman was currently pulled over and looking at her car while rubbing her forehead. “Hey I think some woman is broke down out here. I’m gonna try and help her out real quick. We’ll talk more when I get home.”

“Ok. Be safe.”

“I will,” he replied, now walking in the direction of the road. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied and hung up.

Jack stuffed the phone back into his pocket and called out to the woman ahead. “You need any help?”

She turned at the sound of his voice and instantly her face grew brighter. “Oh my gosh, yes!” she exclaimed jogging towards him. “I went to leave, but my car was driving funny so I pulled over and saw a flat tire of all things!”

“Do you have a spare?”

“Yeah, it’s in the trunk, but I don’t have a jack, and my phone died so I can’t call anyone,” she said running a hand through her red curls and making the bracelet on her wrist jingle with the movement.

“I’ve got one in the trunk. I’ll just grab it, and we’ll get you back on the road in no time.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, why not? My karma could use a little boost.”

“Oh wow, thank you so much!” She followed him back over to his car and stood next to him as he unlocked it and lifted the lid. “This is really nice of you,” she continued. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.”

“Hey, it’s no trouble at all. Here,” he said, handing her a tire iron.

“What’s this?” she asked, weighing it in her hands.

“That,” he said reaching for the jack, “is going to help us change your—oomph!”

“Or not,” she said looking over his now slumped body. Quickly she heaved his legs in and wrapped zip ties around his wrists and ankles before pulling his keys from his pocket. Looking around to make sure no one had seen, Gilda Reed slammed the trunk and sprinted back to her car at the road. She hopped in, pulling it into a spot at the edge of the lot and locking the doors. It would be safe until she came back to retrieve it tomorrow. 

She hurried back to Jack’s car, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she slipped behind the steering wheel and slid the keys into the ignition. Starting it up, Gilda put the car in reverse and backed out smoothly, again scanning her surroundings for witnesses. Finding none, she smoothly pulled out onto the highway and headed for her aunt’s estate a couple of towns over, leaving no trace of herself—or Jack—behind. 

_____________

“Well that was a bust,” Dean complained as he opened the door to their motel room. He tossed his duffel bag onto the bed closest to the door and took a seat on it. “No hex bags, no sigils, no nothing to even suggest that a witch is what caused that guy’s death,” he said as he counted off the items on his fingers.

Sam walked in behind him and sat his bag on the floor at the foot of the other bed and stashed a six pack in the fridge, pulling one out as he did so and sat it on the table. “There’s nothing to suggest a witch didn’t do it, Dean,” he said, taking his jacket off.

Dean looked at him and shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I don’t think this is our kind of gig.”

“There’s something here, I can feel it,” Sam told him as he sat at the table.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Oh you can feel it?” he remarked, placing a hand on his chest, earning him a bitchface in return from his brother. 

Sam popped the lid on his beer and took a long pull from the bottle. “Give it two days. Let’s just check out the body tomorrow, see if we can find any leads. If nothing turns up, we leave.”

“Two days, Sam.” Dean stood and headed for the bathroom. “Then we’re gone,” he said.

Sam closed his eyes as the door shut behind him. They had a lot of work to do.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex had everything ready to go for their dinner. She had just pulled the steaks from the oven, the smell filling the kitchen as she peaked beneath the aluminum foil, and the baked potatoes lacked only a few more minutes before they would be done. It was a little later than she had planned on eating, but it would be better this way in the long run because she and Jack could talk without worrying about A.J. Glancing at the video baby monitor, she saw that A.J. was still sleeping soundly, limbs splayed out in all directions.

She grabbed her glass of wine and took a sip before glancing at her watch: a quarter til eight. Jack had called her just over an hour ago so he should be home any minute now, she surmised. It was nice of him to help out that woman, but Alex was anxious to see him. He was always going out of his way to help people—it was one of the reasons he had become a cop in the first place—and she loved that about him. His generous and caring nature was evident in all aspects of his life. 

The timer went off, and she slipped on her oven mitts before removing the potatoes and placing them on the counter. With one hand she used tongs to hold one foil wrapped potato while with the other she sliced it from end to end, being careful not to cut all the way through. She slowly squeezed the ends together until the middle bloomed outwards and slathered the insides with butter, just how she knew Jack liked it. Alex turned and gave the green beans one more stir before plucking one from the pan for a taste. More salt, she thought and gave them just a pinch more. 

Her phone was playing softly in the background as she put the finishing touches on supper, the gentle crooning of George Strait rolling through the air. She sang along quietly as he spoke of carrying his woman’s love with him as he traveled, the very thought of her brightening the darkest of days. Alex swayed as she fell further into the music, loving the feel of it in the depths of her soul. It had a way of calming her every nerve, soothing her pain and silencing her fears. She lost herself in the sounds as the song ended and Louden Swain’s “Amazing” began. Alex danced around the kitchen gathering dishes and setting the table as she went. 

Eventually she was finished and lounging silently at the table as she waited for Jack to arrive. Her glass was almost empty, but she didn’t want a refill until later after they had talked. She fidgeted in her seat as the music played on around her. Grabbing her phone she saw that it was after nine. She typed out a quick text asking if Jack would be much longer.

Twenty minutes later she checked her phone for a response. Nothing.

Another ten went by and she decided to call him up. It rang once before going to voicemail. “Weird,” she said as she stared at the phone dumbfounded. “He always calls if he’s expecting to be late.”

Alex got up and paced the floor, chewing on her thumbnail as her mind whirled. So many possibilities, so many things could have happened. He wasn’t at the bar long, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember how many drinks he said he’d had, or if he even said at all. Bill wouldn’t let him drive if he’d had too much. Bill, of course! She shot to the table and scooped up her phone, easily finding his number. Alex bounced her leg impatiently as the line rang.

“Hello?” Bill’s deep voice answered.

“Bill! Hi, it’s Alex Wade.”

“Hey, how are you, Alex?”

“Well I’m a bit concerned if I’m being honest,” she admitted. “Jack isn’t home yet, and I was wondering if you saw him when you left the bar?”

“Sorry, I can’t say I did. He left about twenty minutes before I did. Stormed off in the middle of our conversation before my food even got to the table. You said he’s not home yet? Have you talked to him?”

“Yeah, he called me right after he stepped outside to say he was on his way, but then I guess he saw some woman that was broke down and said he was gonna help her out first. That’s the last I heard, but that was three hours ago.”

“Okay, Alex. Don’t freak out on me. I’m sure there’s a good explanation as to why he’s running late. He’ll be there soon,” Bill assured her.

“I know,” Alex said, pushing her hair back. “I’m just worried. This isn’t like him at all.”

“He’ll be there. Give it another hour, and if he isn’t home yet, call me. The missus and I will come over, and she can keep an eye on that little one while you and I go look for him. Okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Bill.”

“No problem at all. I’ll keep an eye on the phone. Take care now.”

“You too.” She hung up and stared at the phone. She knew there had to be a logical explanation, but Alex just couldn’t shake this feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong, and she knew it.

_____________

Jack woke with a pounding in his skull. As he slowly regained consciousness, he was immediately aware of two things: one, he was sitting up, perhaps in a chair of some sort, and two, his hands were bound behind his back. He groaned quietly as he opened his eyes and raised his head. The overhead light blinded him at first, causing him to squint and blink rapidly.

Eventually Jack could make out his surroundings. He was in the middle of what appeared to be a small shed of some sort, perhaps ten by twenty feet in size with wooden rafters bracing a tin roof. Various tools lined the walls—most would be used for gardening or landscaping of some sort—and a long workbench that was off to one side. The light was coming from a single bulb hanging from a cord in the middle of the room, swaying every so gently and casting strange shadows in the corners. 

Jack shivered as a draft blew across his skin. Someone had removed his jacket and button-up, leaving him in a thin white t-shirt. He leaned back in the chair and gave a tug, testing his bindings.

“Don’t bother.”

The voice caused Jack to jump. He craned his head, trying to seek out the speaker in the direction from which it had come, but he couldn’t quite twist as far as he needed. “Who are you?” he asked in his most intimidating voice. “Why did you bring me here?”

A woman sauntered into his field of vision, and he watched as she stopped in front of him. “Oh, Jack,” she said, “I think you know the answer to both of those questions, don’t you?” It was the same woman from the bar, the woman he was trying to help when all went dark. Her ginger curls hung loose around her shoulders, and her bracelet jingled as she leaned forward, placing a hand on each of the armrests. “I think you know exactly who I am.”

“Your tire wasn’t really flat was it?” he inquired with a straight face.

“Nope,” she smirked.

“It was a con to get my attention.”

The woman before him nodded. “Keep going, handsome.”

“You were quick, efficient, and you timed it perfectly. I’m sure no one saw you knock me out. This wasn’t your first time either. You knew exactly what you were doing.” Jack took a deep breath and stared her right in the eye. “You’re the killer, aren’t you? You’re the one who’s been murdering all those men.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” she sang out as she pushed off the chair and spread her hands out wide before placing them on her hips. “I knew you were clever, Jackie-boy,” she winked, grinning at him.

“Why?” he asked, looking up at her.

“What, you really think I need a reason?” the woman scoffed.

“As methodical as you are, the way you killed and then left your victims to find? Yeah, I think you’ve got a reason,” he challenged. 

The woman dropped her arms and lowered her voice. “We’ve all got our reasons, Jack.” She stared at him, something in her expression changing into something dangerous as the air filled with a new kind of energy. For the first time since they had started talking, Jack felt his cockiness falter. 

“You know my name,” he said, “so I think it’s only fair that I know yours as well.”

The woman tilted her head, scrutinizing him. “Gilda,” she said softly, “Gilda Reed.”   
The woman, Gilda as he now knew her, turned and headed for the workbench gathering various items as she began working on something. Jack took the opportunity to once again pull at whatever was holding him, the sharp edge of what felt like zip ties biting into his wrists. 

“I’ve been watching you,” Gilda continued, “following you. Your family, too,” she said over her shoulder, her gaze freezing him in place. She narrowed her eyes slightly before returning to her task. “Quite the life you have there. Beautiful, young wife, nice house, good job,” she paused, smiling up at the ceiling, “and just the most adorable little girl I’ve seen in a long time.” 

Jack’s blood ran cold, icy fear closing around his heart. Crap. She knew about Alex and A.J. He started tugging harder on his hands, blood now running down to his fingertips as he tried to escape. What if she hurt them? No, he wouldn’t let her. He’d kill the woman first. “Touch them and die,” he growled. 

Gilda turned, a rubber hose and funnel in her hand, and raised a brow at him. “You really think you’re in a position to be making threats right now?” she asked, walking towards him. “I usually don’t get this hands on,” she said as she moved, “but, Jack, honey, for the man who’s been investigating my case? Oh I will definitely make an exception. She stepped right up next to him and reached over his head, the skin of her lower abdomen brushing against his shoulder as her shirt rode up. He leaned away as far as he could—which wasn’t much—and turned his head away. Once she had completed her task she moved behind him, rummaging around looking for what she needed. He looked up, seeing how she had wrapped a piece of wire hanging from the ceiling around the base of the funnel, and followed the length of hose down to his chest. He had to get out, now. 

“Stop squirming,” she admonished him from behind. “This’ll go much quicker if you don’t fight me so much. And just look at your hands!” she exclaimed, bending to see more clearly. “You’re dripping blood all over my floor!” She cracked the lid on something, and soon Jack felt a liquid burning the cuts on his wrists. 

“Ah!” he hissed, face contorting with pain. She stood and leaned over, relishing in the sight of him suffering. 

“Time to go,” she said quietly and reached for the hose. With one hand she grasped his jaw, tilting his head back, while the other shoved the hose into his mouth. Jack shook his head rapidly, hoping to shake her off, while still working on his hands. He could feel his left hand slipping ever so slightly, the fresh blood acting as a lubricant between his skin and the zip tie. “You should have thought about your family, Jack, before you decided to drink and drive! They should have been the first thought on your mind when you got behind the wheel! Stop fighting me!” she yelled, forcing the hose further down. 

Jack tried to push the hose out with his tongue, but gagged as it touched the back of his throat. He eyed her wildly, determined to find a way out. He jerked, hitting her in the jaw with his head. She stumbled backwards, fuming. Grabbing a roll of duct tape, she tore off a long piece and wrapped it tightly around his face, cutting off his airway and locking his jaw firmly around the hose. Gilda then retrieved the handle of cheap vodka she had used to rinse his wrists and, one hand in his hair to hold him in place, began pouring it into the funnel above him. Jack coughed as the alcohol filtered down into his mouth and struggled to drink as much as he could. He just had to survive a little longer so he could slip his hand free. 

“You should have considered the danger,” she growled into his ear as the bottle emptied. “Did you ever think about the effect it would have, the pain your family would endure if you had wrecked and died?” She grabbed the next bottle and resumed pouring, feeling him weaken. “You like drinking so much?” she asked. “Then drink!”

He could feel his mind getting foggy, the world shrinking down until it was only him and his struggle to breathe. He coughed again, choking as the vodka went the wrong way. Survive, he thought, survive! The edges of his vision darkened, and the room began to spin as he started to lose. Just when the alcohol started to slow and he could chance a breath, more would rush down, stretching his belly and eventually flowing into his lungs as his body took over and gasped for air. 

Jack had just managed to pull his hand free and reach for her arm when Gilda saw his face relax and felt the bloody hand fall away, flopping to his side. She watched with anger and pain as the life left his eyes, the last of the bottle entering his body. She shoved his head away, it falling forward onto his chest, huffing with the exertion. Normally they didn’t put up such a fight, but this one was something special, she knew, rubbing the swelling on her jaw where he had hit her earlier. She would have to hose him down before she dumped his body so that no evidence would be left behind. 

Steeling herself, Gilda picked up the empty bottles from the floor and began cleaning up her workshop, the lightbulb overhead still swinging gently.

_____________

Alex raced to the front door and threw it open, barely missing Bill’s face as she pushed out the screen door. She had waited almost an hour and a half before calling them back, convinced that Jack was going to show up any minute. She finally caved though, and now it was just past midnight, and she was beyond worried. “I don’t know what could’ve happened to him,” she blurted out in lieu of a greeting. “He always calls. Always. This just isn’t like him at all.” Alex pushed a hand into her dark hair, the other at her hip, and closed her eyes. She was barely holding herself together, the quiet house leaving her imagination to its own terrifying devices. 

“Come here,” Ramona said, wrapping Alex in her embrace. “Everything’s gonna be alright.” She cast a worried glance at her husband, who took the cue and placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder.

“Alex,” he started as she looked up at him, “you said he called you from the bar?”

“Yeah,” she said, straightening herself. “He said ya’ll had just gotten into an argument, and he stormed outside. He said he wanted to talk about everything when he got home.”

“What else?” Bill questioned.

“Um, he was getting ready to leave, but there was a woman on the side of the road who looked like she needed help, so he was going to get her on the road before he headed home.” She wiped her face with her hands, catching a few stray tears and smearing a streak of mascara under her left eye.

“Did he say anything else? Anything about the woman at all?”

“No. No, that was it.”

Bill nodded and held the door for the two women as they stepped inside and walked down the hall to the kitchen. He noticed a full pot of coffee had been made and was still releasing steam while an empty red mug sat and spoon sat on the counter beside it. What looked like a full dinner spread that had been covered was on the stove getting colder by the minute, and a cell phone lay on the table, and an empty wine glass sat in the sink. As Bill walked through the kitchen and into the small living room, he took in the state that Alex was in. Her long hair was tangled, the part abandoned, likely as a result of the nervous habit of pushing her hand through it repeatedly. Her makeup had mostly worn off, save for the smudged mascara and eyeliner, and she had circles under her eyes. Alex was dressed comfortably, in sweats and a loose t-shirt, but she hugged her middle, seeking some type of fleeting comfort. 

“A.J. is upstairs asleep,” she said, reaching for a video monitor and handing it to Ramona. “You shouldn’t have any trouble out of her, but if she does wake up, just change her and give her some milk from the fridge. She’ll usually go right back to sleep, but sometimes you have to sit up with her for a few minutes.”

“She won’t be any trouble at all, Alex. Now you two better get going so you can get that husband of yours home and into bed where he belongs,” Ramona assured her as she slipped out of her jacket.

“I really appreciate your help,” Alex said, looking at the couple. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Um, there’s fresh coffee and you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen. Make sure to lock up behind us, oh and slide the chain on the door, too. The only ones with keys are myself and Jack, but I don’t want anyone coming in here without you letting them in first. Call me if you need anything at all.” Alex picked her coat up off the couch and put it on, taking a moment to clear her mind and calm herself. “Ok,” she whispered. Then, more clearly, she said, “I’m ready.”

“Let’s go get him,” Bill stated and escorted them to the door. He leaned over and gave Ramona a quick kiss, Alex’s heart clinching at the sight as her need to find Jack intensified. “We’ll be back soon,” Bill told his wife and together he and Alex walked out into the night air. 

A cool breeze blew gently, and Alex zipped up her jacket as they headed to the white Honda parked in the drive. Bill opened the door for her and rounded the front of the car as she buckled her seatbelt. Once inside, he started it up and turned to back out, and the orange streetlights lit up the dash as they passed beneath them on their way to the main road.

“The last place you knew him to be at was the bar, right?” Bill asked as he turned the car in that direction.

“Yeah.”

“Ok, then that’s where we’ll start.” 

Alex remained mostly quiet on the fifteen minute ride downtown, but her mind was going about a mile a minute. She just knew something was wrong. There’s no way Jack would leave her worrying like this. Even if his phone had died, he would find a way to call and let her know he was okay. She rested her forehead on the window and stared at the passing buildings. In truth, Alex was concerned that they wouldn’t find Jack tonight. Or ever, a small voice in the back of her mind murmured. She closed her eyes feeling the cool glass on her face. She couldn’t afford to think like that. Those thoughts would lead nowhere fast. 

After a while, she felt the car slow and turn left from the smooth street onto an old cracked blacktop. She sat up and looked around, seeing the old shack sitting across the lot with only a few random cars and trucks parked out front. Bill pulled into a spot near the door and cut the engine, looking up at the neon sign. “Come on,” he said, opening his door and climbing out. Alex got out and followed the older man to a spot a few spaces down. 

“This is where he was parked,” he told her, pointing to the space in front of them. He took in their surroundings, noting the cars parked around them and the people loitering by the door. He looked towards the road, seeing the passing headlights, and walked that direction next. Alex once again followed him, not really understanding what was going on, but wanting to help out however she could.   
Bill stopped at the edge of the road and turned around to face the parking spot Jack had used earlier that day. He then nodded, finding whatever he was looking for agreeable. The man then turned and began searching the ground for something. 

“Is there something I can help you find?” Alex asked while peering over his shoulder.

“I’m looking for fresh oil or gas or antifreeze that may have been leaked onto the ground by a car. You can also tell by scratches on the pavement if someone used a jack to lift a car up and change the tire. Basically, I’m trying to find some sort of evidence that a woman was, in fact, broken down on the side of the road,” he told her.

“Are you, ya know, finding anything?” she questioned as she, too scoured the ground around them.

Bill frowned. “No,” he said, stopping. 

“So what? You don’t think Jack was lying, do you?” she said incredulously, looking at his face.

“I’m not sure what I think just yet, kid,” he told her. “Let’s go back to the car. Do you know what route he usually takes home?” he asked, walking quickly back to the car.

“I mean, I could probably guess,” she called, struggling to keep up with him and wondering just how a sixty-something year old man could move so fast, “but at best it would just be a guess.”

He held the door open for her once more and said, “A guess is all we need. Come on.” Alex slid into the seat and, by the time she had pulled the door shut and grabbed her seatbelt, the old man was in and starting the car again. 

Bill pulled to the road and asked, “Which way?”

“Right,” she said. “then all the way down main and turn left at the old theatre. He likes to take that side street to Lincoln.” 

“Then that’s where we’ll go. Keep your eyes peeled, okay kid?” He glanced at her.

“Yeah, okay.”

They drove slowly down Main Street, watching for any sign of Jack or that he had been there. The small town was deserted at this time of night with only a few cars passing by here and there. The car reflected off the glass of the storefront windows, its image bending and twisting as they passed. Alex watched it all, scanning the sidewalks for his tall outline, hoping to see him walking down the street or his car in a parking spot. Her heart was pounding, every beat sending anxiety thrumming into her veins, her soul screaming for its mate and receiving no reply. 

When they made the turn at the abandoned theatre, her mind wandered to a night a few months after they started dating when they had snuck into the old building and climbed up the balcony where they watched some old black and white horror flick on Alex’s phone. Together they had laughed at the lackluster monster and booed the B-list acting. Jack had stared at her mid-movie while she laughed at a particularly horrible scene. It had taken her a few minutes to calm down enough to realize he was no longer laughing, and, wiping her eyes with her sleeve she met his gaze.

“What?” she asked, sensing his intensity. His blue eyes seemed to glow with electricity as he watched her.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just trying to remember the way you look. You’re beautiful.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re so corny,” she laughed, nudging him with her elbow. 

“I’m being serious.” Jack reached out and pushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “You always carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It’s nice to see you being so carefree.”

“Wow,” Alex mumbled, looking down at her hands as she felt heat rush up from her neck to her cheeks. She wasn’t use to getting many compliments, and that may have been one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to her. She met his gaze, chocolate eyes meeting deep blue, and he leaned forward, searching out her lips as they neared. He stopped just a hair’s breadth away and whispered her name, her pulse quickening at the sound. 

It started out innocently enough, his hand cupping her face and hers gripping his shirt. Soon enough Jack broke the kiss, working his way down her neck as she tried to catch her breath. When he looked up again she pounced on him, straddling his lap and pulling his face back to hers. She slipped her hands beneath his shirt and groaned as she felt his hard chest beneath her fingertips. They broke apart just long enough for him to pull his shirt off and toss it onto a ratty seat nearby before running his hands up her back to her shoulders where he pressed her closer to him. They ended up making love for the first time right there in the back row as Alex’s phone continued to play propped up on the seat in front of them. 

She lay on his chest afterwards, feeling Jack’s heartbeat beneath her cheek and his hand trailing lightly up and down her spine. “Like I said,” he spoke, voice rumbling in his chest, “beautiful.”

Alex raised up and studied his relaxed expression, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched her. “You really think that, don’t you?” she asked with a tilt of her head. 

“Of course I do,” his expression changed from blissful to questioning, “why wouldn’t I?”

Alex shrugged, refusing to meet Jack’s gaze. “Guys say a lot of things to get a woman into bed,” she said, standing and gathering her clothes. 

“That’s what you think this was? Just a casual hookup?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Jack sat forward and snatched his boxers and jeans from the floor, standing to pull them on.

“I don’t know, Jack.” She turned around, searching for her top, backside bared to him for the first time in the light of her cell. 

“Holy crap,” he whispered. Large black wings adorned the skin of her back, the inky tips disappearing below the waistband of her jeans. He moved closer, itching to reach out and touch the marked flesh, but fearing he no longer had the right to do so. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning back around and running a hand through her hair before flipping her shirt right side out. “It’s just that guys usually act really sweet until they get what they want, then they walk out and never call again.” Alex threaded her arms through the sleeves and made to pull the clothing over her head when he stopped her.

“Wait, please,” he asked, hand on her shoulder.

“What?” He was staring at her with wide eyes, lips parted ever so slightly. “Jack?”

“Can I—,” he cleared his throat and started again, speaking more clearly this time. “Can I see it again? Your wings, I mean?”

In her haste she had forgotten about the large tattoo gracing her back. She had gotten them after her foster parents kicked her out, when she first “took flight.” Alex sometimes forgot just how off guard they caught people who didn’t know they were there. She raised an arm and rubbed the back of her right shoulder as if feeling the feathers there. “Ok.” She sat down, back to Jack, and waited until she felt his fingers tracing the various lines and shading. 

Gently, Jack scooped her hair into one hand and pushed it over her shoulder, leaning down to kiss the freshly exposed skin, and Alex’s breath hitched as she felt his lips touch her again, mind flashing back to all of the other places they had been just minutes ago. She was brought back by his hands turning her around to face him.

“I’m not just another guy,” he said, looking her in the eye, “and I will most definitely be calling you again. Probably as soon as I get back to my apartment.” He caught her face when she tried to look down and raised it back so that she met his gaze. “And you are not just any girl. You are the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met, and I consider myself lucky to have shared this with you.”

He pulled her close, and they rested together for a few minutes before gathering their things and walking back to her place. He kissed her at the door and once again reminded her how incredible he viewed her. He did call when he got home, as promised, and she awoke to a fresh bouquet of white lilies on the doorstep the next morning. 

“Alex?”

Bill’s voice pulled her back to the present, shattering the happy memory. They were nearly back to her house and still hadn’t seen a trace of Jack. “Hmm?”

“I think we should call it a night,” he confessed.

“Yeah, okay. Do you and Ramona mind staying the night? We have a guestroom downstairs ya’ll could use. It even has a bathroom attached. I just,” she sighed, “I just can’t be alone right now.”

“I’ll ask Mona, but I’m sure she won’t mind. Look, if we don’t hear anything from Jack by morning…well, kid, I think we should call it in, file a report.” Bill eyed the young woman closely, watching for signs of protest or denial, but she just deflated some as she spoke.

“Okay. Thanks, Bill.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sleep alluded Alex that night, and she eventually gave up on it altogether around 3:00a.m. Rolling out of bed, she crept across the carpet to the master bath and flicked on the light. The harsh glare of the incandescent bulbs above the sink illuminated her pale face and sunken eyes. She grimaced at her reflection and harshly pulled her hair up into a bun on top of her head before padding across the tile into the closet. Alex flipped through the various articles of clothing until she found what she wanted: Jack’s favorite button-up work shirt. The once vibrant blue had long since faded, leaving behind a washed out, splotchy tone in its wake. She fingered a hole in one of the tattered sleeves, thinking back to the day Jack had decided to hang their wedding pictures in the entryway downstairs and hung his sleeve on the nail when he turned to smile at her. 

Alex slipped it on over her white camisole and rolled the sleeves up her forearms and walked back to bed. She bent over and, kneeling, reached under the bed. Pulling out a worn grey shoebox, Alex sat back on her heels and placed it on the bed before climbing in and wrapping the quilt around her. She lifted the lid and pulled out picture after picture from their shared past. She lifted a snapshot she had taken of him to examine it closer. He was driving them to the coast for their honeymoon when she had took it from her spot in the passenger seat. Jack was in the middle of telling her about his last trip to the beach with the guys and was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. His eyes danced as he looked at her, and his dark hair blew in the breeze from the open window.

She covered her mouth to stifle a sob and dropped the photo back into the box, the memory too much to take in her shattered state. Alex wrapped her arms around herself and gently rocked back and forth as she cried. “Please,” she choked out. “Please, God, if you’re still listening, bring him home. I can’t—" she drew in a shaky breath, “I can’t do this without him.”

_____________

Eventually grey light began filtering through the curtains, and Alex managed to drag herself out of bed to peek in on A.J., who was curled up in a corner of her crib and still snoring softly, and then down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom, one hand still on the banister, and stared at the dark room, remembering back to the previous night when she had woken up to Jack working. 

She closed her eyes and took a moment to steel herself, getting mentally prepared for the day ahead. Opening her eyes once more, she strode across the living room while purposely ignoring the sight of Jack’s tennis shoes by the back door. She had a job to do, and to complete it required her to lock down her emotions, at least, after she had her coffee anyway. Alex decided then and there that she would allot herself the time it would take to make and drink her morning joe to let her emotions continue to rule her body. Then, and only then, would she shut it all down and return to the machine she knew she was capable of becoming.

She grabbed the coffee canister from the pantry, but when she turned around to make it, Alex discovered her red mug and a note sitting beside the coffee maker. 

Alex,  
I took the liberty of prepping some coffee for you, so just push the button and enjoy. If you need anything at all, please wake me. I’m always here for you to talk to.  
Ramona

Alex smiled as she read the note and, as instructed, started the maker. She leaned up against the cool marble countertop with her arms crossed and watched the liquid drip down into the pot as she waited. Jack couldn’t really be gone, could he? But then, if something terrible didn’t happen to him, that means that he left of his own volition. Her face dropped as the thought crossed her mind, a different kind of fear creeping into her heart. He wouldn’t just up and leave, though…right? 

Alex’s breathing came in quick little bursts as she stood ramrod straight and considered this. They had a good marriage, right? I mean, sure they had their little fights now and then, but didn’t everyone? Was he cheating then? Did he run off with some woman last night and use the excuse of helping her as a cover for being seen in the car together to throw people off? Has he been planning this for a long time? What about A.J.? Didn’t he care at all for his daughter?

The grumble of the coffee maker running out of water snapped her attention back to the present, and she poured herself a cup. No, she thought. Jack wouldn’t do those things to her. He promised, no, he vowed to never leave her, and just last night on the phone he had said he wanted to talk about all the stress he had been under. 

Alex collapsed into a chair at the breakfast table and rested her head on her arms. The lack of sleep really didn’t help her thought process, and the emotional weight alone was enough to crush her. She groaned loudly but jumped when a hand reached tentatively out and landed on her shoulder. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” When Alex turned towards the sound of the voice, she saw Ramona standing there with a sheepish look on her face. 

“No, it’s fine,” Alex said, standing. “You want some coffee? It’s fresh. Thanks for getting it ready, by the way.”

Ramona winked and said, “I’m a big girl, Alex. You just sit back down, and I’ll get it myself.” The older woman walked around the counter and grabbed a cup from the cabinet. “You don’t look so good. Did you sleep at all?” She glanced up at Alex as she poured her coffee. 

“That obvious, huh?” Alex asked, dropping her gaze to her hands. 

“No, no.” Ramona raced over and sat her cup on the blue placemat in front of an empty chair. “It’s not obvious, I’m just abnormally observant.” She leaned in and whispered, “It’s a habit I picked up from Bill.”

“I couldn’t sleep at all,” Alex admitted. “I’m just so worried about him.” 

Ramona reached over, placing her hand gently on top of Alex’s. “We’ll find him, sweetie.”

“I’m gonna go shower,” Alex said, abandoning her untouched mug. “Then, I guess I’ll start making some phone calls.”

_____________

Gilda cut the lights as the car rolled to a stop on an old backroad. It was still dark, and she waited a few beats before opening the door. Getting out, she stretched, fingertips splayed wide above her head and bracelet jingling softly with the movement. She sighed, releasing a large breath as her muscles relaxed. “Almost done,” she murmured to herself.

Reaching down, she pulled the lever and popped the trunk before strutting around to the rear of the vehicle and raising the lid. “Come on you sorry sack of meat,” she said grabbing Jack’s lifeless body beneath the arms and heaving his torso over the side. Giving a large tug, she pulled his body out and dragged him to the open driver’s side door depositing him in the seat. Gilda then grasped his ankles and positioned them in the floorboard, right foot near the gas. 

Standing up straight, she put her hands on her hips and caught her breath, brushing a loose curl back away from her face. “You’re a heavy one, that’s for sure. Not a whole lot of flab on you, either.” She ran a hand down the side of his lifeless face. “And a looker to boot. Too bad we couldn’t have a little fun before all this. I’m sure you could put on quite a show.” 

Gilda reached into the backseat and grabbed a roll of duct tape from her bag, pulling off a long piece and tearing it with her teeth. She put first his right hand on the wheel and wrapped the tape around it, firmly securing his wrist to the wheel, and then repeated the process with his left hand. Gilda put the car into neutral and turned the wheel towards the ditch before pulling her bag from the backseat and throwing it over her shoulder and walking to the back of the car. She slammed the trunk shut and pushed, feet digging into the gravel until the car picked up speed.

She watched for a few short minutes as the car crashed into a tree and steam rose from beneath the hood. “Goodbye, Mr. Wade,” she said and turned, jogging up the road towards the city lights in the distance. The sun would be up soon, and she wanted to get at least a few hours of sleep before that happened.

_____________

The call had come in a little after 7:00a.m. that Jack’s car had been spotted on the side of a road, and Jack was inside, dead, the whole scene reeking of the serial killer he had been studying for so long now. Alex had sobbed uncontrollably as the man on the phone apologized for her loss, and Ramona tended to A.J. while Bill wrapped Alex in his arms. She clung to his jacket, phone abandoned on the countertop beside her, as he held her close. It had taken her a full hour before the gut-wrenching tears slowed to a trickle, and she had gone numb by the time an officer appeared at the door asking for a statement. 

Alex sat on the couch watching A.J. and Ramona play on the floor. The television played softly in the back ground and she tried, really, honestly tried to pay attention to what the officer was saying, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her little girl. “Officer,” she started, “I’m sorry, but I already told you everything I know. I’m not sure what else you want me to say.” She looked up at him, the young man in uniform reminding her of Jack at that age, and she felt her heart break a little more. 

“Ma’am, I know this is difficult, but if there’s even a small detail, something that may have seemed unimportant at the time, I need you to tell me. No information is bad information.” He clicked his pen and sighed, grabbing a business card from his shirt pocket and handing it to her. “If you come up with anything else, please call me immediately.” Alex looked at the card and nodded. “We’ll let you know as soon as we find anything.” With that he tipped his hat and left, exchanging goodbyes with Bill as he did.

“How you holdin’ up?” Jess asked as she sat on the sofa beside Alex. She came over as soon as her best friend had called, stopping by the shop to hang a “CLOSED” sign in the window and picking up breakfast afterwards. Jessica threw her arm over Alex’s shoulder and pulled her into her side. 

“I just don’t know,” Alex replied. “I don’t even know what to do next or how to proceed from this second. Like, all I want to do is call Jack and talk about nothing and make jokes, or kiss him when he walks down the stairs,” she said as her eyes filled with tears. “I just, I can’t imagine not having him here anymore. I can’t, I can’t deal with it. I mean, we were forever, you know?” She looked over at her friend, her face contorting with the overwhelming emotions. “We were supposed to get old and move into a nursing home together and make fun of the weird lady getting mad because he was such a kickass bingo player. We were supposed to live our lives and go on adventures, but now—” she said as her voice broke, “now he’s gone, and I will never, ever, get to see his beautiful smile again. He was supposed to live,” Alex finished quietly, fist thumping against her knee. 

“He will live, Lex. Jack lives on in your heart and in A.J. I know it’s not the same, and I know I can’t make you feel better right now, but you aren’t as alone as you think.” Jessica gestured to the room full of people. The only people I have left, Alex thought bitterly. “We all love you, and we’re here for you, whatever you need,” Jessica said, squeezing her gently. 

“I need a drink,” Alex stated flatly, rising up off the couch. She ducked into the kitchen, Jessica hot on her heels, and opened the pantry door. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up and grabbed the bottle of scotch she and Jack hid there a while back. Foregoing a glass, Alex unscrewed the cap and had it halfway to her mouth when Jessica swiped it from her hands. 

“You have got to keep it together, woman!” she whispered harshly. “You have a little girl in there who needs her mama more than ever, and getting drunk is so not the way to be there.” Her face softened at Alex’s downtrodden look. “I won’t pretend to understand what you’re dealing with, but you can’t shut down.” 

A tear slipped down Alex’s cheek, her friend’s words hitting her hard and causing guilt to rear its ugly head. She wasn’t twenty-one anymore, and she didn’t have the luxury of drinking til she passed out. She was a mom now, and A.J. was depending on her. Crap. How was she going to be a single mom? 

“You’re right,” Alex admitted. “I don’t know how to do this on my own, though, Jess. I’m so used to having a partner to pick up the slack.” She covered her face with her hands and Jessica pulled her into another hug, depositing the scotch on a shelf behind her. 

“You’ll figure it out, okay? And I’ll help. I don’t know much about kids, but I did have a goldfish once,” she said, earning a small smile from Alex, “and he lived for two whole weeks, so same thing, right?”

“You’re moving in with me aren’t you?” Alex asked, leaning back to stare at her friend.

“Oh hell yeah,” Jess replied, raising her eyebrows. “Girl, your house is way better than my grungy apartment, and I don’t think you two will fit on the couch.”

“Thanks, Jess, really,” Alex said softly. Her friend had a way of making her smile in even the worst situations, and she really came through for her.

“Pfft, don’t thank me. I’m just here for the free food.” Jessica winked and ushered Alex upstairs to get dressed. Bill was going to the morgue soon to officially identify Jack’s body while Alex and Jessica went to the funeral home to make arrangements for the next few days.

_____________

“Dude, wake up,” Dean called as he patted his brother’s sheet covered foot. 

Sam rolled over and squinted at the alarm clock on the table between the two beds. 7:56a.m. It’d been a while since he’d last slept that late, but then, he’d had a difficult time falling asleep the night before. “What’s going on?” he asked as he covered his eyes with a hand.

Dean dropped a couple of Styrofoam boxes along with a tray of coffees on the table and opened his breakfast before searching for a plastic fork in the bag. “I was at the diner down the street when a couple of beat cops walked in. I overheard them talking to the waitress, and it turns out that another body dropped this morning. And the victim? None other than Jack Wade.” He looked up as Sam pushed himself into a seated position. 

Sam’s brows rose. “The detective from yesterday?” he asked with surprise.

Dean pointed his fork at his brother. “Bingo. We need to leave soon so we can take a look before the crime scene gets cold.”

“Yeah, okay. Give me like thirty minutes,” Sam said as he grabbed a piece of fruit from his tray and bag from the floor and headed into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and cut the water on so it could heat up while he stripped. He grabbed the shampoo from his bag and stepped under the spray. Sam closed his eyes and dropped his head as he let the hot water flow over his skin, the feeling of his muscles unknotting relaxing him for a moment. 

Dean woke him too soon. He was just getting to the good part in his dream, the part where Eileen would smile and walk over to him before adjusting his hands after he tried to sign something he just learned. He’d been having the same dream for months now, not every night, only the ones he could actually sleep long enough to dream, and the pain he endured each time he woke up, it was like nothing he’d experienced since he lost Jess years ago. Even today when he was jolted into awareness, his heart broke as he realized that he had left the world in which Eileen was alive and by his side and he had entered one where she would never return to him. 

He longed to see her again, to hear her laugh. He had given up on finding someone to share his life with once he accepted that this was in fact his life. There had been a few times over the years that he’d tried to escape and ignore this side of him, but he hadn’t been able to be honest in those relationships, not really anyway. Then Jess paid the ultimate price for her ignorance, dying because he didn’t protect her, and Amelia ended up with a broken heart because Sam chose to leave rather than shatter that innocence. Then Eileen came crashing into his life, a life she had grown up in as well. They bonded over the common ground as well as their love of literature. She was an intellectual, but tough when she needed to be, and witty as well as beautiful.

Sam rinsed the last suds from his hair and turned the knob on the shower before stepping out and wiping the water from his face. He grabbed a towel and dried off quickly before getting dressed and combing his hair. Dean whistled when Sam exited the bathroom. “You get all cleaned up for me? Aw, Sammy,” he smirked, straightening his tie, “you shouldn’t have.” 

“You’re such a jerk,” Sam said as he threw his wet towel at Dean’s face, grinning when it hit its target. He sat down at the table and took a large gulp of now slightly warm coffee before scarfing down some of his omelet and fruit. When done, he rose and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “Where to?” he asked.

“Crime scene first, then on to the morgue to check out his body,” Dean said while checking his phone. Together they headed out the door to where the Impala was parked nearby.


	7. Chapter 7

“Are you gonna be okay for a bit while I grab some things from my apartment?” Jessica asked, studying Alex. The trip to the funeral home was much harder than either of the girls expected. Alex was easily overwhelmed at the sheer number of options available for burying someone and eventually threw her hands up and said she didn’t care what they did, as long as they treated Jack with the dignity he deserved before storming out. Jessica followed her out, apologizing profusely to the undertaker and promising to be right back. 

Jessica found Alex on a bench in the hallway, a conveniently placed box of tissues beside her, sobbing once again. She walked over and knelt in front of her friend, a hand on each knee. “You want me to take care of this?” Alex just nodded, unable to meet Jessica’s eyes, ashamed that she couldn’t hold it together for five freaking minutes. “Okay, Lex. Just stay here til I get out. I’ll be back soon,” she told her. Jessica did as she had promised, completing the process in a record fifteen minutes, and soon returned to walk Alex out to the car. 

They drove straight back to the house, and Ramona and Bill left soon after, Ramona to get some rest and Bill to jump on the case. Now, as the two girls stood in the entryway, Alex was trying to stave off a panic attack brought on by the mere thought of being alone for even a few minutes. Control, she thought. I have to keep control. 

“Yeah,” Alex nodded, “I’ll be fine.” She plastered on a fake smile, hoping to reassure Jessica. By the look on the woman’s face, though, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

“Yeah, right,” Jessica said slowly. “Just, don’t do anything crazy til I get back.” She hugged Alex before opening the door and stepping out onto the porch. “I’ll be back soon,” she called over her shoulder, “promise.” With that she was gone, Alex shutting the door behind her.

She slid to the floor, back pressed to the door and legs outstretched, and dropped her hands into her lap. She sighed loudly, closing her eyes and attempting to find her bearings. Her head rolled to the side, and when she opened her eyes, they landed on the box of case files Jack had packed up a few nights ago. The words “Alcohol Murders” were written on the side of the large white box in black marker, Jack’s all caps handwriting calling to her. 

She crawled the short distance to the box and carefully ran her fingers over the words. Alex slowly pulled the box into her lap and lifted the lid, the smell of cardboard filling her nostrils. She picked up the file on top, the last—no, the next to last—victim’s name on the front. “Okay,” she murmured. “I can do this.” 

She opened the file to the first page, once more being assaulted by Jack’s handwriting, and took in the man’s demographics. Jack knew these cases inside and out, they meant so much to him, and it suddenly became incredibly important to Alex to know them as well. She read each page slowly and carefully, absorbing the information like a sponge as she went, and committing the details to memory. When she was done with the first file, Alex closed the yellow jacket and placed it on the floor beside her. Her hand lingered on it before reaching into the box for the next file. She repeated the process until she had studied each individual case. It wasn’t until she got to the final picture in the first victim’s file that she noticed something odd.

It was clipped to the back of the last page in the folder, a crime scene photo taken of the backseat before the victim’s body had been removed, as evidenced by the victim’s shoulders barely showing over the top of the seat on the edge of the frame. It wasn’t the body that caught her eye, though, it was something else, something that was overlooked by the police at the time, something Alex would know anywhere. There in the back floorboard was a small brown box that had Curly Q’s address printed into the delivery address line. 

“Oh wow,” Alex breathed when she saw it. She hurriedly flipped back to the front of the file where the victim’s name was printed along with a photograph from when he was alive clipped to the folder jacket. She studied his face closely, but no matter how hard she tried, Alex couldn’t remember seeing him in her shop, let alone special ordering something and then him picking it up. 

Just then there was a knock on the door. Alex’s head snapped up from her spot on the floor as Jessica’s voice sounded on the other side. “Alex, it’s me!”

“Just a second!” Alex called, shuffling onto her feet and unlocking the door. “Hey.”

Jessica had a duffle slung over each shoulder and a small toiletry case in her hands. “So I mainly just brought what I’d need for the next week or so because I don’t have to be out til the fifteenth, so I can get everything else later. Everything go okay while I was gone?” she asked as she walked in. Just as she stepped into the foyer her foot caught on the lid of the cardboard, sending her flying onto her face on the hardwood floor.

“Jess! Are you alright?” Alex asked, rushing to help her friend.

“Ow,” she groaned, face hidden in one of her bags. She rolled over as Alex cleared away some of the baggage. “The hell did I trip on?”

“The lid off of one of Jack’s case boxes. Jess,” Alex told her seriously, “you won’t believe what I found.” Alex moved back into her previous spot, patting the place beside her and looking up at Jessica expectantly. Jessica sat down, unsure of what she was about to see. Alex pulled the crime scene photo from the file along with the one of the victim alive and laid them out on the floor in front of them.  
“Okay,” she told her. “Look at these and tell me what you see.”

“Lex, I don’t really know what I’m looking at here.”

Alex sighed impatiently. “Just, try. Please.” She picked up the crime scene photo and held it out to Jessica with a pleading look.

Jessica pressed her lips together as she stared down her friend. This wasn’t exactly what she expected Alex to be doing while she was gone, and frankly, she was a bit disappointed in her for going through all these case files so soon after Jack had passed, but Alex was her best friend so she would play along for a bit to gauge the woman’s headspace.

“Fine,” she said, taking the picture. “I see the backseat of somebody’s car, uh, the back of a dead guy’s head,” she continued scrunching up her nose, “and strangely no blood.” Jessica blinked. “Huh, I always figured the first time I’d see something like this there’d be blood spatter everywhere. Is it in the front seat then?” she asked, looking back to Alex.

Alex shook her head. “No. It’s believed the murderer killed them somewhere else and then moved the bodies. They drowned in alcohol.”

“Alcohol?” Jessica said wide-eyed.

“Yeah, like, drank so much it filled their lungs,” Alex explained. “Keep looking. What else is there?”

“Not much, uh, a jacket, a book of some kind, and oh. Is that what I think it is?” 

Alex nodded enthusiastically. “You bet it is. Now look at this one. It’s the victim before he died. His name is Jeffrey Bonner, that’s his wife, Alyssa, beside him. Ever seen either of them?”

Jessica took the picture and really stared at it for a minute before shaking her head minutely. “No,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen them in the store before.” She continued staring at their faces, carding through her unfailing memory but coming up empty. She brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and returned the photo to the floor beside the other. Sitting back she knitted her eyebrows together and turned her gaze back on Alex who had been watching her the whole time. “How did they get that box if we never sold them anything?”

“Exactly,” Alex grinned, raising an eyebrow. “I thought the same thing. So, if it wasn’t theirs…” she trailed off.

“…Then who did it belong to?” Jessica finished. “You think the killer is one of our customers,” she stated.

“Not just a customer,” she said, pointing at the box in the picture, “but a customer who special ordered something from us prior to the murder and then left this at the scene. I’m thinking since it was the first one, the killer made a mistake. They were sloppy, and maybe they noticed, maybe they didn’t, but it’s enough to narrow down the suspects into a nice little list that just so happens to be on our computer at work.”

Just then, A.J. started crying upstairs. “We’ll go to the shop later and look into it, Lex, but let’s get through the next couple of days first, okay?” She stood and held a hand out to her friend.

In her excitement over the new breakthrough in the case, Alex had momentarily escaped the hell she was currently living in, distracting herself with the challenge. It hadn’t started out that way, but once she saw that box, her only thought was to follow the lead. Now though, the weight of the last two days came crashing down on her shoulders once more. She visibly slumped, berating herself for forgetting, even for a moment, that she was alone, that Jack was gone. But, a small voice in the back of her mind spoke up, she’d felt closer to him working the case than she had since he died. 

“Yeah, okay,” she said, scooping up the pictures and boxing them up before taking Jessica’s proffered hand. 

She helped carry Jessica’s things to the other bedroom upstairs before going to A.J.’s room. The little girl was standing in her crib, hands on the rails when the door opened, revealing her mother’s face. “Mama!” she yelled excitedly, bouncing up and down. Alex crossed the room as A.J. held her arms up, hands flexing.

“Hi, baby. Did you sleep good?” she asked, picking her up. A.J. hugged her mother’s waist with her tiny legs and played with the necklace around Alex’s neck. She turned her blue eyes upwards taking in the details of the woman’s face and laughed, her giggle making Alex smile gently. “Let’s go potty, huh?”

Alex carried A.J. into the bathroom down the hall and put her down in front of the training chair. As they went about the process of “going potty,” Alex’s mind wandered. Jack wouldn’t be there to celebrate when A.J. finally got the hang of going to the bathroom by herself. He wouldn’t be around for her first day of school, or her first dance, her first date, or her graduation. He wouldn’t be able to sit down with her when it came time to discuss her career path or the man she would eventually marry. Jack wouldn’t be there to cheer her on in anything she decided to do in the future. Every image in Alex’s mind of the two of them supporting A.J. together dissolved until it was only Alex there for her daughter. A.J. would be missing out on so much.

“I done!” A.J. announced, hopping up. 

“Good job, A.J.!” Alex told her, smile plastered on her face. It isn’t fair, she thought. It just isn’t fair.

_____________

The next day passed in a blur, phone calls and visits from people they knew offering their condolences. Alex remained stoic throughout it all, only allowing herself to breakdown in private. When they pulled up to the funeral home an hour before the visitation, though, she began panicking.

“I can’t do this,” she said, looking at Jessica while she put her SUV in park. 

“Yes, you can,” Jessica said, flipping down the visor to check her makeup in the mirror. “I’ll be there the whole time in case you need me.” She glanced at her friend fending off a panic attack in the passenger seat. “You’re gonna be fine, Lex. A couple of hours here, then we head to the cemetery, then it’ll all be over.” Alex took a deep breath and loosened her grip on the armrest. “Good,” Jessica nodded encouragingly. “Now release the seatbelt.” Alex lifted a shaking hand and did as instructed. “Okay. Out you go. I’ll grab A.J.” 

They exited the car and walked in to meet the undertakers. After shaking hands, they were led into the chapel where everything would take place. Alex stopped as her eyes landed on the casket up front. She had been unable to bring herself to view Jack’s body, but now, as she stood frozen behind the rows of pews, she realized how foolish it all was. She knew what Jack would say to her, could almost hear his voice in her ear saying she was better than this, stronger than this shaking leaf that couldn’t get her crap together. She was a mom, and now, a widow, but although she was cracked, she would never be broken. 

Jessica adjusted A.J. on her hip, watching as Alex processed the scene before her. She was worried that it would be too much for the woman, but Jessica was pleasantly surprised as Alex straightened, focusing her gaze on the man who lay at the front of the room, and began walking purposefully towards the casket.

She came to a stop inches away from her husband, gazing down at him with sad eyes, and carefully reached out, tentatively pushing his dark hair back. She sighed, resting her palm on his cool cheek. “Why is this happening, Jack?” she choked out. “Nothing makes sense without you here. I don't know how to function without you. I don’t want to.” She blinked, her hand falling away. Leaning down, she kissed his forehead, shuddering at the lack of warmth, and a tear fell as she whispered, “I love you.”

Alex stood and took a seat in the front pew, pulling a tissue from the box beside her and wiping under her eyes. Jessica sat beside her, A.J. now crawling into her mother’s lap instead, and wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulder’s, quietly offering her support.

Alex was in a daze for most of it, standing at her husband’s side one last time as a never ending line of people hugged her and wished her the best. When that part was over, a piano began playing and Bill said a few words about his fallen friend, then the minister preached for what felt like forever as Alex fidgeted in her seat. The piano played again, a song Alex might have recognized had she been paying attention, and everyone stood as the casket was closed and the pall bearers escorted it out to the hearse. 

“Come on,” Jessica said, leading Alex out the side door to the car. They all piled in and waited as the line formed. Finally the taillights of the hearse lit up, and it rolled slowly forward into the street. They followed it silently all the way to the cemetery, Alex staring straight ahead as the tears continued rolling down her cheeks. When the car finally stopped, they got out and walked through the maze of headstones to the freshly dug hole in the ground. Alex held A.J. close as the few people who followed took their seats under the tent. 

The men carefully placed Jack’s casket into the vault and were about to put the lid on top when she finally found her voice. “Wait,” she whispered, throat dry from disuse. Then, louder she said, “Wait! Not yet, please.” Alex stepped up to the man in charge and begged, “I need to see his face again, just one more time.” Her face crumbled and her voice shook as she cried. “Please open it. Please.”

The white-haired man’s heart broke for the grieving woman as he considered it, the others staring at him, waiting for his word. He nodded at them, and they stopped, one cracking open the lid and holding it open for Alex as she peered inside. She reached for Jack’s hands resting on his abdomen and held on tightly, eyes squeezing shut as a sob wracked her body. 

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “Jack I’m so, so sorry.” Jessica took a now crying A.J. from Alex’s arms, and Bill pulled her away and gave the men a nod to close it as she crumbled to the ground in his arms. She stayed that way, sobbing and choking on Jack’s name until after they laid him to rest and the last few people started their cars and pulled away. 

“I’ve got her if you can take A.J. back home until we get there,” Jessica said, pulling a key from her purse. 

Ramona took the toddler as Bill rose to his feet and dusted off his pants. “Let us know if you need anything,” he mumbled, and together he and his wife walked A.J. to their cars and swapped out the car seat.

Jessica sat with Alex until the sun went down and Alex’s breaths stopped hitching. Finally, Jessica placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder and spoke softly. “It’s time to go, Lex.” Alex’s jaw clenched with stubbornness, but she relented and rose on shaking legs. She wrapped her arm’s around her middle and strode quickly to the car while Jessica watched. “She’s going to be lost without you, Jack,” she whispered in the night air. Shaking her head, she followed Alex to the car and prepared herself for the task of caring for the broken woman.

She got in, but stopped before starting the car. Jessica felt like she should say something to comfort her friend, but the right words refused to come, everything sounding hollow and insincere in her mind. She settled instead for plugging her phone into the dash and scrolling through it until she found what she was looking for. Jessica started the car as Blind Faith’s “Can’t Find My Way Home” began playing softly in the background. 

“Thank you.”

Jessica barely heard it over the speakers, but she grabbed onto Alex’s hand anyway and held it until they got to the road. “Like I said, I’m here if you need me. I’m not going anywhere.” She released Alex and pulled out onto the old blacktop, heading for the solace that home provided.

_____________

“Look, man, I don’t like it anymore than you do,” Dean explained as he loaded their bags into the trunk. He placed a hand on the lid and looked at his brother. “There just wasn’t anything there. Even the cops are stumped.”

Sam tossed his duffel in and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and sighed. “I know. I just don’t like leaving something like this unfinished.” They came up empty handed at the crime scene, and again at the morgue, while looking for signs of anything supernatural. Then they stayed a few extra days and just started searching for any suspect in general, but that, too was a dead end. Eventually they decided to call it quits, the lack of new information and leads weighing heavily on their shoulders as they did. 

Dean shut the trunk and leaned against the bumper of his beloved car. “We could stay here for weeks and never find anything new. Who knows? That last murder was outside the pattern, so it might be over anyway.” Sam agreed wholeheartedly, but he didn’t have to like it. “We’ll keep an eye on the area, and if anything at all pops up, we’ll be here, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Dean nudged his brother’s shoulder and headed for the front of the car. “C’mon,” he said, opening the door, “I’ll buy you supper before we head out.” He slid into the front seat as Sam mirrored his actions on the passenger side. Soon, the purr of Baby’s engine filled the air, and they pulled out of the parking lot, an air of unease filling the space between them as they left a case unsolved.


	8. Chapter 8

Three weeks later…

Alex woke up to the sound of her phone ringing on the nightstand. Squinting in the harsh sunlight streaming through the curtains, she struggled to sit up and answer the damn thing before the person hung up. “Hello?” she grumbled, angry that someone would dare disturb her rest.

“Alex, it’s me.”

“Jess?!” Alex exclaimed, grabbing her clock. “Where are you? Why’d you let me sleep so late?” She scrambled out of bed and rushed down the hall to A.J.’s room, the phone still pressed to her ear.

“Jesus, Lex, you haven’t slept in days. You needed it, dumb-dumb,” Jessica chided her.

“Where’s A.J.?”

“I took her to daycare on my way to the shop. Don’t worry, she was dressed adorably,” the woman gushed, clearly pleased with herself.

Alex pressed a hand to her chest in an effort to calm her racing heart, the thought of A.J. being gone terrifying her at first. “Thanks, really. I just wasn’t expecting to wake up alone.” Her voice almost broke on the last word, but she managed to swallow down the lump in her throat. Maybe I’m finally starting to get the hang of this, she thought. “So what’s your plan for today?” she asked, heading back to her room and grabbing her robe off the hook. She slipped one arm into a sleeve, swapped the phone to her other ear, and then repeated the process before knotting the sash around her waist. 

“I thought I should at least try to make it in on time for once, and maybe later, you could come by so we can take a look at who might’ve ordered that package before the first murder. If you feel like it, I mean.” Jessica bit her lip as she waited for a reply, the question hanging in the air. She felt like distracting Alex with this might not be such a bad idea after all. 

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Alex said, heading downstairs to the kitchen. “I’ll come in later, maybe bring lunch, and we can check it out then.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.” The line went dead just as she reached the bottom step. The smell of coffee brewing didn’t greet her this morning. Instead, it was a cold and empty kitchen that welcomed her harshly, the house’s silence deafening in Alex’s ears. She paused, stomach sinking with dread as she realized this was her new normal. 

Suddenly nauseous, Alex ran for the bathroom at the other side of the kitchen and emptied what little had been in her stomach, the muscles contracting painfully as she started dry heaving. One hand flailed blindly for the lever as she pulled the lid down with the other. Alex groaned and rested her forehead against the cool porcelain. Maybe food wasn’t such a good idea this morning. “This sucks,” she spit out, closing her eyes. Of course, her body wouldn’t let her rest for long, and soon she was once more curled over the seat as she heaved.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she rode the wave, begging herself to hold on a little longer and hating herself for being so weak. She slammed a fist down onto the seat as the nausea subsided and dropped back on her rear, arms hugging her knees. “It’s not fair!” she screamed at the ceiling. “Why did you do this, huh? I was happy! Why did you take him away from me?” She kicked the toilet with all the force in her body, back braced against the wall behind her, and it shook with the blow. “A.J. is too young to remember him,” she sobbed. “She’ll never know how much he loved her or how excited he was when she was born. You’re ruining her life, too, ya know.” Alex wiped her nose with the sleeve of her robe and sagged against the wall. “Why do you hate me so much?” she whispered. 

She finally summoned the energy needed to stand and made herself reach into the shower and cut the water on. As it warmed, Alex undressed and grabbed a bottle of her favorite body wash from beneath the sink. It was a bit expensive, so she only used it on occasion when she wanted to pamper herself. She pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower, the hot water stinging her skin, but she relished the pain as it burned its way down her body.

Alex cranked it up, feeling the water scald her skin, but she refused to care. She washed her hair before pouring a hefty amount of body wash into her palm, the cool liquid sliding between her fingers and down her arm, and as she rubbed it into her skin, she imagined it was Jack’s hand on her body, his heat warming her up. The suds ran down her pink skin as she closed her eyes, falling deeper into her imagination. All too soon, the water turned cold, and Alex frowned as she rinsed quickly and cut the water off. Wringing her hair out, Alex pushed the curtain to the side and stepped out, pulling a towel off the rack above the toilet and wrapping her body in it. She scooped up her clothes before heading upstairs to get dressed for the day.

Her mind was overflowing with thoughts of her emotional tirade earlier. She just couldn’t understand why God kept leaving her on her own. She had spent years building this new life for herself, new friendships, a new family of her own, and, after all she went through as a child, it was hard to tear down her walls and let people in, but she finally managed to overcome her fears and believe that not everyone would cut and run.

Alex furrowed her brows as she towel dried her hair, perhaps a little too vigorously, as she considered her circumstances. There had to be a reason why all of this was happening, right? Despite her estranged relationship with God, she always believed firmly in the idea that he allowed hardships for a specific reason. She stood and dropped the damp towel on the counter, leaning forward and observing her reflection. “It doesn’t make sense,” she whispered.

Her frown deepened as a new thought occurred to her. The murders had been spaced out so that only one victim a month was found, but Jack was killed just days after the last murder took place. Was he targeted because he was closing in on the killer? “No,” Alex mumbled, rubbing her neck. “He said he didn’t have any suspects.” So why, then? There had to be a commonality, a reason the killer struck so soon after the last murder. What did Jack have in common with any of those men?

She stepped into the closet and pulled on her favorite pair of jeans, washed so often the once rough denim was now soft like cotton. Alex grabbed an old band t-shirt and put it on as she reentered the bathroom. Glancing at her hair, she decided to let it air dry and just go natural for the day. It’s not like she was trying to impress anyone anyway. She quickly brushed her teeth and grabbed a pair of socks from the dresser, but stopped as her hand came to rest on a battered old baseball sitting atop a small stand. 

Alex dropped the socks and picked up the worn thing, turning it over in her hands. She sat on the foot of her bed and examined the ball, seeing all its scars. Jack said he and the other kids in his neighborhood had played with it for hours growing up, and when they all graduated high school and went their separate ways, he didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. Instead, he chose to keep it with him “as a reminder of my more innocent days,” he’d said when she first asked about it. It wasn’t anything special, didn’t have some priceless autograph inked into the side, but it meant a lot to Jack, and it was priceless to him. Alex returned the red-stained ball to its resting place and retrieved her socks once more, wondering if there would ever come a time when she wouldn’t be knocked breathless by the mere thought of her lost lover.

_____________

Alex pulled her old GTO into her spot down the street from Curly Q’s and cut the engine. She paused before getting out, staring at the keys in her hands. Normally she’d have music blaring from the speakers as she drove, but she hadn’t had the heart to turn on the radio at all since Jack died. Music didn’t have the same feel to it anymore. Even when Jessica had put on one of Alex’s favorite songs the night after they buried Jack, it did little to comfort her like it used to. Everything was different now. Even the sun seemed less bright. 

She finally gathered the strength to get out of her car, grabbing her bag and throwing it over her shoulder once she was upright. She rounded the car to the passenger side where she carefully removed the tray of drinks and bag of food from the front seat. Closing the door, she patted the roof of the car twice before walking towards her shop. As she neared the door, Alex piled everything into one arm so that she could turn the knob and push it open. 

“Jess?” she called as she put everything onto the countertop beside the computer.

“Back here!” Alex smiled and headed for the back room. As she passed through the brightly patterned curtains hanging in the doorway, Alex was greeted with an interesting—though not unusual—sight. Jessica was on her back amidst an array of boxes, packing peanuts and bubble wrap strewn everywhere.

“The hell happened to you?” Alex asked, trying to dig her friend out of the mess. 

“I was trying to unpack a new shipment, which is why I came in so early this morning,” Jessica grumbled as she shifted into a kneeling position, “but then I tripped over one of the heavier boxes over there, and I sent me headfirst into this stack of bags and what not.” 

“You have got to start being more careful, Jess.” Alex shook her head. “You know I can’t afford for you to go on workman’s comp.”

“Workwoman’s comp,” Jessica corrected. She pulled her silky hair over one shoulder and looked up. “You get some lunch? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, it’s in there.” Alex pulled Jessica up so that she was standing and watched the other woman step carefully over some boxes before following her onto the sales floor. “I still don’t see how you survive on salads,” Alex said, scrunching her nose.

Jessica paused, Styrofoam carton half out of the bag, and looked at Alex. “Dude, I have to eat salads because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to have those orgasmic banana puddings once a week,” she said flatly and placed her salad by the drinks.

“Orgasmic, huh?” Alex smirked. 

Jessica slapped both hands down onto the counter and leaned forwards. “Hey, something’s gotta be,” she snapped. “I haven’t dated anyone in a while, you know that. A girl’s got needs.” 

“Alrighty then.” Alex held both hands up in a surrendering position, grin spreading. “Don’t poke the bear during a dry spell.”

Jessica stuck her tongue out and drew a laugh from her friend. “It’s nice to hear that again,” she said, handing a foil wrapped burger to Alex. “Been awhile.” 

“I just haven’t found much to laugh at lately,” Alex answered quietly, looking down at her food. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if she was capable of eating and was just about to put it back into the bag when Jessica snatched the sack out of her reach.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, shaking her head. Jessica pointed at the burger. “Eat or die. I’m not budging this time, missy.”

“You’re such an ass,” Alex said accusingly and removed the foil.

As she took a bite, Jessica smiled and stabbed a piece of lettuce with a fork. “Ass or not, you need to eat a friggin’ meal. You’re wasting away over there.” It was true, since Jack died, Alex had dropped fifteen pounds, finding nausea a more frequent feeling than hunger. 

“So,” Alex said between mouthfuls, “have you looked at our records yet?”

Jessica nodded, spinning on her stool to face the computer. “I’ve got it narrowed down to a list of five,” she said while logging in and finding the page she needed. “All of these people special ordered something within a week of the first murder.” 

Alex leaned over the counter and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “What size were the packages they received?” A few more clicks, and shipping dimensions appeared beside the products. “So now how many are there?” she asked as the front door opened. 

Alex turned towards the tell-tale jingle of the woman walking towards her while Jessica quickly minimized the screen. “Hello, ladies,” Gilda said brightly, a wide smile on her red lips. 

“Gilda,” Alex nodded. “How are you?”

“Oh, fine, just fine. I’m here to get my new charm. Is it in yet?” she asked, clasping her hands together and glancing between the two.

Alex sent a questioning look in Jessica’s direction. “I’ll just check the back,” she said. “We got a truck in this morning.” Jessica turned and hurried for the back room.

“What did you get this time?” Alex asked. 

“Just wait til you see it,” Gilda said excitedly. “It’s a cute little shield.”

“A shield? Interesting choice.”

“It’s the perfect addition to my collection. A little sooner than I had originally planned, but still just as special!” the woman laughed, placing a delicate hand on her chest. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Gilda sobered and stared at Alex. “And how are you doing? I heard about Jack...”

Alex had been picking at her food but stiffened at the sound of her husband’s name. “I didn’t realize you knew who he was,” she observed, eyeing the woman. 

“I saw your name in the list of survivors when I read the obituary,” Gilda answered quickly. “So?” she said, tilting her head. “How have you been carrying on?”

“About as well as you can imagine,” Alex said, watching as the woman fingered a charm on her wrist. Was that a wedding ring beside a house?

“Yes, well, I’m sure you were just crushed when it happened, but perhaps you will come out of this ordeal on top.”

“My husband was murdered, Gilda. I don’t think I can ‘come out of this’ in a good way,” Alex challenged her with an odd look.

Gilda lowered her voice and stepped just a little too close to Alex and said, “You’d be surprised what a tragedy can bring about.” She stared at Alex a second longer before facing the rear of the store. “There it is!” she clapped. Jessica brought the package out from the back room and handed it to Gilda before slipping back onto her stool behind the counter to watch the strange woman open it. 

Gilda pulled out a small wad of brown paper and began unwinding it from around the charm as Alex and Jessica looked on. Once she finally reached the middle, Gilda plucked the shining charm up out of the paper and held it close to her face to examine. “Do you mind?” she asked Alex, undoing the clasp on the silver chain.

“Sure,” Alex said and took the charm from Gilda. As the red-haired woman laid out her bracelet on the countertop and pointed to where she wanted the charm to go, Alex took a look at the charm. “Wait a second, when you said you ordered a shield, I thought you meant like a fighting shield, not a police badge!” she said incredulously.

“It has a special meaning to me,” Gilda spit, glaring at Alex. 

“But what could—”

“Of course it does, Gilda,” Jessica said, cutting Alex off and giving her friend a look to calm down. “I apologize for Alex’s behavior. It’s still very difficult for her to handle things that remind her of Jack.”

“Perhaps you should take a bit of time off until you can better control yourself, Alex,” Gilda remarked as she put her bracelet back on. 

“Oh I have loads of self control,” Alex gritted out, fuming over the turn this conversation had taken.

“Yes, well, maybe you should start utilizing it, hmm? Wouldn’t want to anger the wrong person, now would we?” Gilda shifted her purse onto the opposite shoulder and headed for the door while waving over her head. “See you soon, ladies,” she called as her bracelet jingled.

“The nerve!” Alex said, fist coming down on the wooden countertop. “Who the hell does she think she is?!”

“She’s a customer, Lex, and you did freak out when you saw the charm. What happened while I was in the back? When I came out here the tension was so thick I could barely breathe!” 

“She asked about Jack, like, used his name, and was saying all this crap about how I should come out on top. Hello? My husband is dead! Where’s the bright side to that?” Alex huffed, gesturing wildly.

Jessica blinked. “She said that?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, she said I’d be surprised at what tragedy can do. What are you doing?” she asked as Jessica spun in her seat.

“The list,” she mumbled, bringing the page back onto the screen. “Look.”

Alex rounded the counter and peered over Jessica’s shoulder. There on the screen was the list of people who had ordered packages that fit the same dimensions as the one in the crime scene photos through Curly Q’s the week before the first murder, and in the third spot was none other than Gilda Reed.

“Holy crap,” Alex whispered. “There’s no way this is a coincidence.” 

“It’s definitely weird, but do you really think she’s capable of murder?” Jessica asked, looking up at Alex. “I mean, she’s kinda skinny. I doubt she’s got enough strength to manhandle those guys.”

“Hey, you’re the one always going on about how creepy she is. She didn’t freak me out until today,” Alex accused. She stood straight and crossed her arms. “It is a little flimsy as far as evidence goes, though…” she trailed off. There had to be something a little more concrete before she started pointing fingers. She took a long draw from her drink as she mulled it over. 

Jessica started back in on her salad and watched Alex. She could almost see the gears turning in the woman’s head as she thought. Alex snapped her fingers loudly, startling Jessica with the sudden movement, and shouted, “I’ve got it!”

“Jesus! Do you have to scare me like that?” Jessica said, hand falling onto her heart. 

“We can look up the item numbers and see what these people ordered, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jessica admitted slowly. “What difference does it make?”

Alex grinned and shouldered past Jessica. “What if the items are somehow connected to the crimes?” She started copying the numbers down on a notepad and brought up the seller’s website.

“Why would they be connected?” Jessica asked around a mouthful of lettuce.

“Why else would the killer have left behind a box, dumb-dumb?” Alex teased as she searched the items. “Okay, so we’ve got a collectible baseball card for Mrs. Richards, a gold monogram necklace for Alice Holt, and a moneybag charm for Gilda.”

“Well I’m no detective, but I’m gonna go ahead and say the eighty-year-old wife of a retired broadcaster is not our killer,” Jessica noted, fork pointed at the screen. 

“I don’t know,” Alex joked. “She’s pretty feisty in the grocery store. You don’t want to be caught dead between her and the manager’s specials.”

“What kind of monogram did Alice get?”

Alex glanced at the screen. “Uh, it was an ‘L’ for her daughter’s birthday, I think. Seems like that’s what she said when she came in, but I can’t remember for sure,” she said, knitting her eyebrows together in thought.

“And Gilda got a moneybag charm? Like the Monopoly piece?” Jessica asked. Alex nodded. “I’m sure it had a ‘special meaning’ to her that she refused to tell you about,” she said while using air quotes around the phrase they had heard all too often from the woman. “Scootch,” she said, taking back control of the keyboard. 

Alex grabbed her burger and watched Jessica pull up orders around the dates of the other murders. “What are you looking for?” she asked, taking a bite.

“If the items are connected somehow, then the killer probably ordered stuff around the time that the others were killed, and,” she pointed to the screen, “looks like Gilda ordered a package around each of those times.” Jessica gave Alex a pointed look.

Alex leaned over and looked at the item numbers, all of them being similar to the first charm Gilda ordered, and said, “Make a list of those numbers, and we’ll find out what the charms look like. I’ll take it home and see if I can find a connection somewhere. Good thinking on the other packages.” She finished her burger and downed the rest of her cola before heading back to grab an apron. 

Jessica gave Alex an odd look as she tied it around her waist. “You working today?” she asked. Alex had taken the first two weeks off after Jack’s death, and even now she only popped in for a few hours at a time to place orders and help out with the daily upkeep of the place.

Alex nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “You’ve done a lot these last few weeks, and I need to be at least trying to get back to a somewhat normal place.”

“Look at you getting back on the horse!” Jessica smirked. “It’s about time you started doing something around here. I was beginning to think that I owned this store.”

“Shut it, woman,” Alex said in a faux-serious manner, “or I’ll have you fired.” 

Jessica’s grin widened. She was glad that her friend was in a place where they could joke around like they used to; it had been too long since she heard Alex talk like that. “I’m still on break, but you,” Jessica said, pointing at Alex, “ can start trying to make sense of those boxes back there because I wasn’t doing too well when you came in.”

“And you can kiss my rear,” Alex joked back, slapping her hip before turning towards the supply closet and retrieving a broom and dustpan. “I’ll leave these here so you can clean up your mess when you finish lunch. I’m gonna try and get a jump on fronting these shelves so we can stock them with the new merchandise.” She started towards the back of the store and began her work, all the while thinking of the possibility that her husband’s killer could have been right in front of her just minutes ago. She shuddered as the realization that the killer could have been there this whole time, and she never once noticed it.


	9. Chapter 9

Alex unlocked the front door and held it open as A.J. ran inside. It had been crazy at Curly Q’s—they were swamped the entire afternoon—and she was thankful that Jessica offered to close up while Alex ran to the daycare. Now she had just enough time to start supper before Jessica got home. It had been weird at first to have her in the house, but after the first few days the two women settled into their old habits and began working together just as they had the first time they were roommates. 

“A.J., honey, you gotta go pee?” Alex asked her daughter. 

“Yeah!” A.J. nodded her head and scrambled to get into the bathroom first.

“Hey! Be careful!” Alex called as she followed her. She walked in just in time to catch the young girl before she sat on the potty chair with her pants still on. “Wait, A.J. You’ve got to pull these down first,” she said, helping her. “Now, go ahead and do your thing.” 

When A.J. finished, Alex helped her fix her pants and wash her hands before leading her into the kitchen. She reached into the fridge and pulled out A.J.’s cup of milk and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Are you hungry?” At A.J.’s nod, Alex handed her the milk and peeled the banana. “Half now, and you can have the rest after you eat that, okay?”

“Okay,” A.J. replied, reaching for the banana.

Alex handed it to her and said, “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Mama.”

“You’re welcome, A.J. Now go eat.” She watched her girl walk into the living room and start playing while she chewed on the banana. Alex reached back into the fridge for some hamburger meat and began browning it in a skillet before gathering all the other ingredients for lasagna. After she had it all put together in the baking dish, she popped it into the oven and set a timer on her phone.  
“Now that that’s done,” she mumbled, “it’s on to more important things.” She gave A.J. her other half of the banana before going to the hall closet and pulling Jack’s box of case files from the top shelf, her heart once more clenching at the sight of his handwriting. She had stashed the box here in the aftermath of the funeral when she was cleaning house, promising herself that she would come back to it when she could. That time was now. The case meant a lot to Jack, and she was determined to solve it before anyone else got hurt.

Alex placed the box on the kitchen table, glancing at A.J. before pulling off the lid. She laid out each file across the table in a grid like pattern and stored the box on one of the chairs. She had just pulled the list of charms Gilda had ordered over the last seven months when Jessica walked in the front door. 

“Hey, it’s just me!” Jessica called as she hung her purse on a hook and walked down the hall. She caught A.J. as the toddler ran full tilt towards her and picked her up. “Hey cutie,” she said, kissing A.J. on the cheek.

“Hey, Aunt J,” A.J. greeted her. 

Alex came around the corner and waved Jessica into the kitchen. “You’re just in time,” she said. “I was about to try and put all this together.”

Jessica followed Alex to the kitchen table and took a look at the demographic sheets Alex put on top of the files. She picked up the first one and looked it over. “Want to split the cases?” she asked as she let A.J. down.

“Sure,” Alex replied. “If you’ll take the first three, I’ll get the others.”

“Works for me.” Jessica sat down on one side of the table and copied down the first three charms before grabbing the first case. It wasn’t long before she came up with the connection. “Look at this,” she said, sliding the page over to Alex. “Jeffrey Bonner was a loan officer at the bank.”

“Moneybag,” Alex said, eyes widening. “Jack was a cop, hence the police shield, and this guy,” she said, holding up a file, “Dawson Briggs, was killed right before Jack, but he was an optometrist…”

“…And the charm she picked up that day was a pair of eyeglasses. Wow. Coincidence?” Jessica asked, scrunching her face in a disbelieving way.

“Less than likely,” Alex replied. “Let’s see if these others match up before A.J. gets bored in there, okay? And I guess we’ll be doing some more research on our lady here after supper.” The two women returned to their work, but over and over they found that the charms all matched up to the victims’ professions. 

“Well crap,” Jessica complained as she matched her third charm, a textbook, to a young teacher at the local high school.

“That one pan out, too?” Alex asked as she chopped vegetables to go in a salad.

“Sadly,” Jessica said while gathering her files and replacing them in the box with the ones Alex had gone over. “I say we Google the woman.”

“You’re probably right,” Alex admitted. “What do we even know about her?”

Jessica stopped by the counter on her way into the living room, reached over, and stole a carrot from the cutting board. “She moved here maybe a year ago from who knows where, doesn’t get out much, and from what I’ve heard, she doesn’t talk to a whole lot of people either, just the people she comes into contact with at the local businesses.”

“That’s not much to go on,” Alex mumbled. She pointed her knife at Jessica and said, “I want details.”

“After we eat!” Jessica called as she sauntered into the living room to play with A.J. while Alex finished in the kitchen. 

“Hey when are you going to let me teach you how to cook?” Alex asked.

“Never, Mama,” Alex heard A.J. say after a short pause. Jessica was useless when it came to cooking and practically lived off of microwavable meals and takeout, but she helped take care of A.J. while Alex made their meals, which was a pretty big job in and of itself. A.J. rarely stayed occupied with any one thing for more than a few minutes at a time, so having her Aunt J play with her kept her out of Alex’s hair long enough to get some food together.

Alex finished tossing the salad and covered it with plastic wrap before wiping her hands with a dishtowel and joining the others in the living room. She took a spot on the couch and pulled a throw pillow into her lap, hugging it tightly against her chest and resting her chin on top as she watched the scene play out before her.  
Jessica and A.J. had a wooden puzzle laid out on the floor with the pieces piled up beside the board. Jessica was on her belly, holding a piece out for A.J. and smiling as she told the little girl where to put it. A.J. giggled at something Jessica must have said and tried to fit the piece in various spots before finding the right one. A month ago, that would have been Jack on the floor, laughing and making jokes while Alex looked on. The thought sobered her quickly, and Alex felt her throat tighten with emotion. Things will never be the same, she thought. Jessica had done so much for them, but it just wasn’t the same as having her husband there. The ache in her chest grew to be too much, and Alex excused herself to the bathroom in order to regain her composure. 

She closed the door behind her and sat on the closed toilet lid as she covered her mouth with her hand to contain the sobs. She didn’t know when she’d be able to get through a day without crying at least once, but she doubted it would be anytime soon. She just hurt too much, and Jack’s memory was everywhere around her. Alex couldn’t go five minutes without seeing something that reminded her of him. After a few minutes, she finally regained control and stood at the sink as she ran a washcloth under the cool water coming from the tap. She washed her face gently to erase the evidence of her crying session, paying close attention to the area around her eyes to try and combat any swelling, and took a few deep breaths before pulling open the door and hitting the light. 

“You okay?” Jessica asked as she entered the kitchen. While Alex was gone, Jessica had A.J. help her set the table for dinner and was now settling A.J. into her chair.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alex said, heading for the oven and keeping her back to the others in the room. She peered inside and saw that it was almost ready, so she checked the timer on her phone. Another couple of minutes, and the dinner would be ready. “You think I should call Bill? Tell him what we’ve found?” she asked as she stared at the oven window.

“It would definitely help out,” Jessica said. “We’re not exactly equipped to handle this sort of thing.”

“He’d know how to take her down legally.” Alex sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. Stress had caused the area to tighten and she had frequent headaches because of it. “Even if I do want to see her hang,” she mumbled petulantly. 

The timer went off and Alex slipped on her oven mitts before pulling the heavy dish from the oven. “Watch out and back up, ladies,” she said as she put it on the table. She scooped out a serving for each of them and took her place beside Jack’s old chair. 

Jessica raised her glass of wine and tilted it towards Alex. “To settling scores.”

“To settling scores,” Alex echoed, clinking her glass with Jessica’s. She smiled as A.J. rose her own sippy cup into the air and gently hit it as well. 

_____________

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but Detective Gracin quit a few days ago. Said he was retiring and moving to the beach.”

“The beach?” Alex repeated incredulously. “That man hates the beach. Hell, even Ramona hates the beach! Why would they just up and move?” There was a pause on the other end of the phone before she heard the secretary sigh impatiently.

“I don’t know, why don’t you call them and ask?” the woman replied.

“You know what,” Alex said through gritted teeth, “I think I will.” She ended the call and slammed the phone down onto the counter beside the cash register, fuming. Not as satisfying as slamming the old school phones down onto the receiver, she thought, but it works. She leaned on the wooden surface, head in her hands. “Why does everything have to be so difficult?” she groaned. She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found Bill’s number and hit send. Holding it up to her ear, Alex waited as the line connected, rang once, and went straight to voicemail. “Okay weird,” she said as she pulled up Ramona’s number. She went through the same process, again getting voicemail, and stared at her phone. “Super weird.” 

“What’s weird?” Jessica asked as she came into the front of the store, arms full of new bags to go on display.

“Apparently Bill just up and retired,” Alex explained as she walked over to help take some of her coworker’s load. “The secretary said he told them that he and Ramona were moving to the beach.”

Jessica scrunched her face. “I thought they hated the beach?”

“The man doesn’t even fish,” Alex told her. “He almost drowned as a kid and won’t go anywhere near water if he can help it.”

“That is weird.”

Alex began stocking the display as she added, “It gets better.” At Jessica’s questioning look, she continued, “I tried calling both of them and got voicemail.”

“A cop and a gossip queen with their phones turned off? Yeah, okay,” Jessica responded dryly. “Because that makes a lot of sense.” She paused and looked at Alex. “You don’t think something happened to them, do you?”

“What? No,” Alex scoffed before glancing at her friend. “No,” she repeated sternly. “They’re probably in the mountains without any cell reception and just told the office that as, you know, a joke.”

Jessica eyed her skeptically. “You really believe that?”

“I have to,” Alex mumbled. “Bill was the only one that could help us out with the investigation.” Actually, she couldn’t stand the thought of losing another piece of her family.

Jessica snapped her fingers, startling Alex so much she jumped. “What about those cute FBI guys?” she said excitedly. “You’ve still got their card, right?”

“Yeah, at least I think I do,” she replied, heart beginning to slow after the initial shock of Jessica’s outburst. 

“So call them. They said anything you came up with or remembered, no matter how small or insignificant a detail, call, and they’d be here.” She crossed her arms and smirked, clearly pleased with herself. 

“You just want to see the tall one again so you can flirt with him,” Alex retorted. 

Jessica patted her chest and looked at the ceiling. “I swear I’d climb him like a friggin’ tree,” she sighed.

“You’re so weird,” Alex laughed. “Okay, I’ll call them.” She hurried back to her desk and grabbed her purse from where she stashed it below the counter. Pulling out her wallet, Alex flipped through the cards there, restaurants and local businesses she’d frequent along with a repairman here and there, until she found the right one. She dialed it quickly and waited as it rang.

“Yeah?” came a gruff voice on the other end.

“Agent Plant?” she asked quickly.

“Speaking. Who is this?”

“Oh, shit, sorry! It’s um, Alex Wade? From the case in—”

“Tennessee,” he cut in. “Yeah, now I remember. What can I do for you?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” she breathed. “I think I have some details regarding my husband’s case you might be interested in.”

A pause. “Why not tell your local P.D. about it?” he asked.

“They won’t listen to me,” she explained. “My husband’s partner was my only real contact over there, but apparently he just up and left town a few days ago, and no one else will even take my calls.”

“Hold on just a second,” he said. Alex waited as she heard what sounded like someone covering the phone with their hand as they talked to someone else. “We’ll be there by tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Okay, great!” Alex said as she locked eyes with Jessica, who had come over to eavesdrop on the conversation. “Thank you so much, Agent Plant, really.”

“Just stay safe until we get there, alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” she asked. 

“Sometimes when people find out things they aren’t supposed to, bad things happen. Just proceed with caution until we get to town, and don’t do anything stupid.” He paused before adding in a more reassuring tone, “We’ll be there soon.”

The line went dead, and Alex stared at her phone in disbelief. “What?” Jessica asked. 

“He told me to be careful until they got here,” she replied, knitting her brows as she looked to Jessica. “He said we could now be in danger because of what we know.”

“But they are coming, right?” Jessica prodded.

Alex nodded slowly. “Yeah. They’ll be here tomorrow morning.” She bit her lip. “You think I should go get A.J.? Bring her here?”

“If it makes you feel better, then yeah, but I don’t see how anyone could know what we know, so how can we be in danger?”

“I don’t know, but something tells me this guy knows what he’s talking about.”

“His eyes?” Jessica asked.

Alex snapped her head up from where she’d been playing with an ink pen on the desk. “What?”

“His lips?” Jessica continued.

“The hell are you babbling about, woman?”

“Or his rock hard body?” Now Jessica was flat out grinning ear to ear.

“Go do some work or something, jeez. We’ll hurry and close up so I can go get A.J. and take her home.” Alex rushed to the front door and flipped the sign to “CLOSED” before turning the lock. Hopefully that would deter any last minute shoppers long enough that they could get out of there.

_____________

Sam and Dean hurried to the garage after gathering their things and jumped in. This was the break they were hoping for, and the anticipation of settling this case coursed through Sam’s veins. 

Dean on the other hand was being driven by a need to protect that woman and what remained of her small family. He had connected to her immediately, recognizing the signs of someone who had lost so much in their short life as easily as looking into a mirror. It was the reason they had stayed a few extra days the first time around. Now, he was determined to square things and give her peace of mind. He gunned the engine and spun gravel as Baby tore out of the gravel drive and onto the connecting highway. He had to get there soon. He had to.


	10. Chapter 10

The steady rumble of an engine had Alex practically running to the front door as a car pulled into her driveway the next morning. Peeking through the curtains at the window beside the door, she saw two men get out of a sleek, black, Impala. No, not just two men, she corrected herself. The two agents here to help her. She opened the door as they reached the front steps and smiled nervously as she greeted them. “Agent Plant,” she nodded to the shorter man. “And I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I caught your name,” she said, looking to the taller, shaggy haired man in front of her. 

“Page,” he smiled, shaking her hand.

A strange look crossed her face as she took in the new information. “Agents Plant and Page,” she said slowly. “No way the bureau did that by accident.”

Dean straightened but smiled. “Yeah, it’s a big joke at the office.” He quickly glanced to Sam before training his eyes on the dark haired woman before him. He clapped his hands together and said, “So. New information?”

“Oh, right! Yeah, just follow me,” she said, turning and leading them down a short hallway that opened up into a small living room and kitchen. Mickey Mouse was playing on the television, and a toddler peered at the strange men from behind the couch, her soft curls and bright, blue eyes just peeking out around the corner. Dean waved at the little girl who grinned and disappeared behind the furniture once more.

“So this is what we’ve got,” Alex said, gesturing to a bunch of files spread out over a small table. Brightly covered sticky notes were stuck to various pages, but the handwriting, Dean noticed as he looked over everything, was different from the writing on the pages themselves. 

“These your notes?” he asked, holding up a paper.

“Technically the files were my husband’s, but no one from the office collected them when he,” she paused, “you know, so I’ve been going over them and adding my own notes along the way. That’s not illegal, is it?” she asked reluctantly.

The taller man, Agent Page, spoke up. “It’s fine. We just want to be sure of what we’re dealing with.” 

Alex breathed a sigh of relief before picking up a picture and handing it to Sam. “I was going through some of the cases after Jack died, just trying to get a little more insight on the other victims and why my husband would have been targeted, when I saw this,” she pointed at the crime scene photo. “It’s from the first murder,” she explained, “but what makes it different from the rest is what’s in the backseat. See that box there?”

Sam nodded. “What about it?”

“That box came from my shop.” He looked up at her with surprise before she continued. “Don’t worry, I didn’t put it there. It was special ordered and delivered to my shop, but neither the victim or his wife were the ones to buy it.” As she spoke, another woman, shorter and blonde, entered the room wearing tight yoga pants and a colorful tank top. 

“When neither one of us recognized them, we decided to check our files at the shop.” She smiled and held a hand out to Sam. “Jessica,” she said. “We didn’t get to talk much last time you guys were here.”

“Jessica?” Sam asked as he shook her hand. 

“You got it, sugar, but Alex here calls me Jess.” Sam’s heart dropped at the sound of the woman’s nickname, the same one he had used for his own girlfriend a lifetime ago. “Did I say something wrong?” Jessica asked, glancing between the two men.

Dean spoke up and slapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “No, no. Sammy here just gets nervous around beautiful women,” he grinned, giving Sam’s shoulder a gentle squeeze in support.

“Wait, Sammy?” Alex piped up.

“It’s Sam,” he corrected, giving his older brother a dirty look. “My partner’s first name is Dean.”

Understanding crossed Alex’s face, and she nodded. “Oh okay. So, anyway,” she continued, “we did some digging through our records and narrowed the list of people who could’ve ordered that package down to three.”

Jessica grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat in one of the chairs at the table. “But an old lady and squeaky clean soccer mom weren’t exactly prime suspects,” she said before taking a sip. “Which leaves us with…”

“…Gilda Reed,” Alex finished for her friend. “She special ordered a charm the week before that first murder, and she picked it up the day before the body was found.”

“What kind of charm?” Dean asked, looking up from the file he was sifting through.

“A silver moneybag charm for her bracelet. She wears it everywhere, and you can hear it before you actually see her.” Dean nodded, encouraging Alex to continue. “Turns out,” she said, handing Dean the first victim’s file, “the guy was a loan officer at a local bank.”

“Really?” Dean asked. “What about the others?” Alex swallowed the lump in her throat as she thought about the creepy woman buying a shield for Jack and wearing it on her wrist. 

Noticing her friend’s distress, Jessica spoke up from her seat. “She bought a charm right before each murder that corresponded with the victims’ occupations. Of course, Jack’s death broke the pattern and Gilda just picked up her latest charm—a police shield—a few days ago.”

“She’s really weird,” Alex added quietly. “I was always nice to her because, you know, she’s a paying customer, but she just moved to town a year ago.” She pushed her hair back out of her face with one hand as she spoke, clearly at unease speaking of the woman. 

“Gilda Reed, huh?” Dean shared a look with his brother before he continued. “Any idea where we can find this woman?”

“She doesn’t get out much,” Jessica said. “But we were going to do a quick Google search if you guys are interested?” she asked, looking between the two agents.

“I’ll grab my laptop,” Sam said, turning around.

“I’ll come with!” Jessica offered, popping up out of her seat and joining him in the hallway. "You’re really muscular to be so tall,” she complimented the man as they walked outside.

Alex rolled her eyes at her less than subtle friend. When Jessica wanted something, she went after it full throttle. “Poor guy,” she mumbled. 

“I’m sorry?” Dean asked, having not heard her clearly.

“Oh, it’s just that my friend there has a bit of a crush on your partner, and she can be pretty forward when she sees a guy she likes.” Alex shook her head. “He seems nice, but doesn’t stand a chance.”

Dean looked at his shoes and grinned. “Yeah, well, it’d probably do him some good.”

An awkward silence fell between them, and Alex started prepping some lunch for A.J. while Dean continued scouring the case files. The women had done an impressive job with what evidence they had access to.

Alex watched the man standing by her kitchen table as she gathered ingredients for a PB&J. Jessica was right, he was good looking. His dark blue suit fit perfectly and showcased his rear, and his green eyes missed nothing as they scanned the pages before him. He appeared to be deep in thought, his tongue slipping out to quickly wet his pink lips, and Alex was losing her train of thought. She cleared her throat and his eyes shot to her face.

“You hungry?” she asked. “I’m just fixing A.J. a sandwich, but there’s leftover lasagna in the fridge I could heat up, if you’re interested?” She pointed to the fridge with her thumb over her shoulder as she spoke, a hesitant expression on her face.

Dean mulled it over a second as he stared at her. Her dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders, a strand having fallen into her dark eyes as she spoke, and she wore a faded band t-shirt that looked like it’d seen better days, but it looked damn good on her. “Sure,” he grinned while mentally berating himself for looking at the grieving widow like that. “That’d be great.”

She nodded and reached into the cabinet for a bowl before pulling the leftovers out of the fridge. Just then, Sam and Jessica came back inside, her voice carrying down the hall. The two entered the kitchen right as Alex was heating Dean’s lasagna in the microwave.

“…walked right up to the guy, and wham! Punched him square in the jaw!” Jessica said as they rounded the corner. 

Dean sent Sam a questioning look before asking, “Who got hit why, now?”

“When Alex and I were waitresses at this bar back in the day, some guy got sloppy drunk and wouldn’t leave her alone,” Jessica explained as she placed a hand on Sam’s arm, grinning like an idiot.

Alex scooped up A.J. and buckled her into her chair, food in front of her, and groaned. “Please not this story again, Jess. They don’t need to hear this.”

“Too bad, cause they’re gonna,” Jessica retorted, sticking her tongue out at Alex. “So, anyway,” she continued, “this guy must have weighed three hundred pounds, and he decided that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, he stumbles over to the bar, slaps a twenty down, and says, ‘Sugar—‘”

“’—I’m aiming to take you home tonight whether you like it or not!’” Alex finished for her friend. 

“What a douche,” Dean commented.

“You got that right,” Jessica agreed. 

“I was so mad I could barely see straight,” Alex laughed, getting up to check the microwave. “Anyone else want leftover lasagna?” she offered. As the other two nodded, she began prepping more bowls.

“Then what happened?” Dean asked.

“Well it just so happens that our boy Jack had just walked in and saw the whole exchange. He tapped the guy on the shoulder, aiming to give him a piece of his mind, but before he could get two words out, Alex had rounded the bar and was standing there instead!” Jessica said, pointing in Alex’s direction. “She hit him so hard he fell back against the bar and bumped his head!”

Sam and Dean both turned wide eyes on the unassuming woman standing in the kitchen dishing out food for everyone. “What?” she asked. “He deserved it. There’s no telling how many women he’d treated that way before me.” She shrugged. “I just hope I deterred him from making the same mistake in the future.”

“You mean to tell me that you knocked a three hundred pound man on his a—” At Sam’s warning glare, Dean adjusted his wording. “I mean, uh, bottom?”

“She sure did,” Jessica grinned. “Then had sex with her boyfriend in the supply closet.”

“Jess!” Alex hissed, pointing to her toddler at the table.

“Well, you did.”

“We didn’t, do that,” Alex explained. “We just made out a little,” she mumbled.

“For twenty minutes,” Jessica added, earning a warning look from her friend. “And they forgot to throw the condom away afterwards,” she blurted before dodging a fork as it came flying towards her head. “Admit it, Alex,” Jessica giggled. “You were a bit wild back in the day.”

“I wasn’t wild, Jess,” Alex stated. 

“You got it on in some pretty freaky places, Lex.”

“I was in love, alright!” The room fell quiet at Alex’s outburst, the previous laughter coming to an abrupt halt. “I wasn’t easy, I just,” she paused, taking a deep breath in through her nose. “It was Jack,” she said simply. “I would’ve done anything for him. Excuse me,” she choked out and rushed out the backdoor.

“Shit,” Jessica whispered. Usually their ribbing never made the other one mad, but as they continued to joke, Jessica forgot that it wasn’t until Jack came along that Alex started getting it on a regular basis. “I really screwed up.”

“You want to go talk to her?” Sam asked. “We can watch the kid until you get back.”

Jessica shook her head. “No, she won’t stay in the same room as strange men without freaking out. Women are okay, I guess it’s the maternal thing, but she doesn’t do well with guys.”

“I’ve got it,” Dean said as passed them on his way out the door. “You two see what you can find on our possible suspect.” He walked outside and gently shut the door behind him while looking around the yard. He breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted her curled up on a bench beneath an old oak. “Mind if I sit?” he asked as he approached her. 

Reluctantly, she nodded. “Go ahead,” she whispered, moving her feet off of the seat and facing forwards with her arms crossed. She hastily wiped a few stray tears from her face as he sat beside her.

“You really loved him, didn’t you?”

“What kind of question is that?” she spit. “Of course I did.”

“Look,” Dean started as she looked away, “I’m not good at talking, but I’m not a bad listener.”

“Why would you want to?” she asked.

“Because you’re not the only one who’s lost someone close to you,” he admitted, staring into the space before them. “I know what a difference it makes when you have someone who’s willing to hear all the crap inside your head.”

“I just need a few minutes to get my head on straight,” Alex said quietly. He nodded, and they sat there in silence for a few minutes before she spoke again. “I feel like God doesn’t want me to be happy,” she admitted. “I grew up in a foster home after my mom disappeared, and they eventually kicked me out, too. Then, I met Jessica, and we got to be pretty good friends, but then out of nowhere, Jack showed up.” She laughed, blinking back tears as she thought of him. “He was so persistent. You know I said no twelve times before I went out with him?” she asked, finally looking at the man beside her. 

“Twelve?” Dean asked with surprise. She nodded. “Wow, he really was persistent.”

“I didn’t know what to think of him at first,” she said. “I actually thought he was just in it for the sex after the first time. I figured he’d go home and never call me again, but he did. He always did what he said he would and never, ever gave me reason to doubt him.” She sighed as she looked up into the tree, watching the sunlight streaming down between the leaves. Her eyes fell on a certain spot and the faintest smile graced her lips.

Looking up, Dean attempted to find what had suddenly caught her attention, when he saw it. About twenty feet up the trunk of the tree were the words “MARRY ME” carved into the wood in all caps. Dean knitted his brows and looked back and forth between her and the carving before pointing up and asking, “Did he do that?”

His words brought her out of her thoughts and she blinked. “What?”

“The wooden proposal up there, did Jack do that?”

Alex blushed and stared down at her hands where they were folded in her lap. “Yeah. This house wasn’t even built at the time. The whole neighborhood was a work in progress when he drove me out here. He pulled me out of the car and we walked around for a while just joking and talking ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybe one days,’” she looked at him, a small smile playing on her lips, as she let him in on this intimate part of her life. “Then he lead the way until we were standing right beneath this tree, and he said, ‘Alex, would you want to live here one day?’ Of course, I thought he was joking, but I played along with it as he pointed out the place he’d build our kids a treehouse. That’s when I saw it,” she whispered, her eyes glistening.

Dean had been watching her closely as she spoke. Her ever-changing emotions flitted across her face, and Dean’s heart broke a little more for her as he learned just what it was she’d lost. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head lightly before continuing on, playing with her wedding set as she talked. “I turned around to ask him how it got there, and Jack was on one knee, ring in hand. I couldn’t believe it,” she confessed. “All my life, people had come and gone, and no one had even hinted at staying for any length of time, but here was this man I’d barely known six months asking me if I’d stay with him for the rest of our lives. Can you believe that?” She looked Dean in the eye, the disbelief clear on her face.

Dean wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to react, and he paused as he considered it. He knew what it was like to live a life without certainty. Hell, he’d been doing it everyday since he was four, and the one person he thought he could count on, Sam, had even left a few times over the years. “I can imagine what you must have felt,” he admitted, brows furrowed. 

Her expression softened. “I always knew it was too good to be true. I guess I just wanted it to be forever, and I lost myself in the idea that it could be.”

“Your husband didn’t want to leave you, Alex.”

“You think that makes it any easier?” she snapped. “I could have had a lifetime of happiness, but God took it away from me because I don’t get to live a happy life.” She stood up as she spoke, and Dean followed her. “I don’t get to have a big happy family like everyone else, Dean. I don’t get the happily ever after!” Her voice broke on the last word, and Alex began sobbing as the pain overflowed. She’d never told anyone that, not even Jack, and yet here she was blabbing about it to a complete stranger. 

Dean wrapped her in a warm embrace, hugging her close, and she clung tightly to his jacket much in the same way as she did Bill’s at the cemetery, her head on his chest. Faintly she recognized the smell of motor oil and something else, something she’d smelled on Jack every now and then after a particularly rough day at work, but she couldn’t quite place it as her emotions continued to wrack her body. They stayed that way for a few minutes until Alex regained her composure.

“Shit,” she said as she realized what she’d been doing. She stared up at him in horror, her face still red and tear-streaked. “I’m so sorry,” she told him, stepping away, a hand covering her mouth. At his confused expression, she attempted to explain herself. “I didn’t mean to—”

He shook his head. “No, no. I shouldn’t have—”

“That was completely inappropriate, and I don’t usually do,” she waved her hand frantically through the air as she looked for the right word to explain her emotional outburst, “that.” Alex brushed her hair back with one hand and attempted to clean her face with her sleeve.

Dean nodded, avoiding the woman’s eyes as he straightened his clothing. “Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket and offering her a red, folded bandana. 

“Thanks,” she replied quietly, taking the cloth and wiping her eyes. When she was done, she tried to hand it back, but Dean simply raised a hand and shook his head. 

“Keep it,” he said. “You might need it later.”

“Thank you two times, I guess,” she mumbled. Dean put a tentative hand on her shoulder as she turned, and together they walked back to the house.

He opened the backdoor and she stepped inside first just as Sam was firing up his laptop. When Jessica saw Alex, she rushed over and pulled her friend into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I never should have taken it that far.”  
Alex pulled back and gave a small smile. “It’s fine,” she said. 

Jessica stepped back and nodded. “So,” she spoke a little louder, “we were just about to Google the bitch.”

“Jess!” Alex scolded. 

“A.J. is almost in a food coma anyway,” Jessica explained. “I’m sure she didn’t catch it.”

“Yeah, well I’m going to put her down before we begin, alright?” Alex said, walking over to the table and scooping up her daughter. “Come on, babe. Let’s go lay down.” She eyed the others on her way out as a reminder not to get started without her.

After Alex was upstairs, Sam looked at his brother, who had been staring after the woman. “She okay?” he asked.

His voice seemed to snap Dean out of whatever trance he’d been under, as he looked over and asked, “Hmm?”

Sam grinned. “I asked you if Alex was gonna be alright.”

“Oh,” Dean nodded. “She just lost her husband, man. Give her a break. She’ll be fine eventually.”

Jessica watched the exchange closely, but paid special attention to the blonde man. She had kept an eye on the two through the back window, so she caught the lingering hug they exchanged under the tree. “Hey, hot pants,” she said sternly. “You’re right, her husband did just die, but that doesn’t give you the right to swoop in and try to get laid. She’s still mourning, and you’re not about to take advantage of her.”

Dean looked at her with confusion. “Who said I was going to try anything on her?” he asked defensively, taking a few steps in Jessica’s direction. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I’m warning you,” she said evenly. “If you hurt her, no one will ever find your body.”

“Bite me,” he quipped, voice bubbling with restrained anger.

“Alright!” Sam interjected. “Both of you need to calm down, now.” He looked between the two as he tried to diffuse the situation.

Alex came back downstairs and immediately sensed the tension in the air. “Everything okay in here?” she asked slowly. Jessica just crossed her arms in response and stared at Dean, who’s jaw flexed with anger.

“We’re fine. You ready to find out a little more about this woman?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Sure, why not?” she said, releasing a breath and dragging a chair over next to where Sam sat. He brought up Google and typed in the name “Gilda Reed” as Jessica peeked over his shoulder. After scrolling through the requisite ads, Sam saw a link to a newspaper that had Gilda’s name highlighted in the description. He clicked on it and Alex drummed her fingers nervously on the countertop as she waited for the page to load. The headline at the top read: “Family Destroyed After Accident Claims the Lives of Three.” Below it, a picture of a car being pulled from a body of water was surrounded by police cruisers and a couple of ambulances. 

“The heck is this?” Jessica asked as she scanned the page.

“’Roger Reed and his two children were killed last night after running off the road and into Pike’s Lake,’” Alex read aloud as Dean leaned over the back of her chair. “’It’s believed that Mr. Reed had been drinking before picking up his children and heading home, when he drifted into oncoming traffic. He swerved to miss a car but lost control and ended up crashing through the guardrail on the side of the road before heading straight for the water. The vehicle was submerged nearly two hours before authorities were able to pull it out. There were no survivors.’” Alex gasped, her heart breaking for the two children who perished. She skimmed through the rest of the article, skipping over details of a joint funeral, when she stopped.

“Listen to this,” Sam said. “’Survivors include wife and mother, Gilda Reed, as well as Mrs. Reed’s aunt, Valerie Coggins of Tennessee.’” 

“Valerie Coggins?” Jessica questioned. “Wasn’t she that woman who worked at the public library for like, ever?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. She had really curly hair that would never stay in place and usually had a pencil stuck in her bun, right?” She sat there for a minute before adding, “Didn’t she die early last year?”

“Yeah, but I can’t remember what it was that killed her,” Jessica said as she leaned back against the counter. “Cancer maybe?”

“I don’t know,” Alex mumbled. She spun in her chair to face her friend. “She died, and not too long after that is when Gilda showed up.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shot a pointed look at Jessica. 

“Maybe that’s why she moved here,” Dean said.

Alex nodded in agreement. “As far as I know Valerie didn’t have any family nearby, so maybe she left everything to Gilda for a chance at a new start.”

“But she couldn’t take being alone,” Jessica added, “and she wanted revenge, but had no one to take it on because her husband had died, too.”

“So now she what, kills random men because of a mistake her husband made?” Alex shook her head. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. I say we look at the files again and try to figure out why exactly these men were targeted. If we do, maybe we can figure out who she’ll go after next.”

“Are there any commonalities the victims share?” Sam asked, looking between the two women.

Alex opened her mouth to speak, but Dean, who had begun leafing through another file, beat her to it. “They were all family men, either with a wife or longtime girlfriend they lived with, and some even had kids.”

“And,” Alex cut him off, earning an impressed look from the man, “they were last seen leaving a bar.” 

“Okay,” Sam started. “So she spots a guy leaving a bar, follows him and finds out he has a family…”

“Then kills him the next time he decides to drive drunk,” Jessica finished for him. She took a seat across from Sam and sighed. “That’s heavy.”

“It’s her way of killing her own husband over and over,” Dean said as he leaned against the counter. 

“So how do we find her?” Jessica asked.

“We wait.” The group turned towards Alex when she spoke, and she shrugged. “We don’t have any concrete evidence,” she said, “so the only way to get justice is to catch her in the act.”

“Okay, then.” Dean clapped his hands together. “We’ll hang around town and keep an eye on you two.”

“Why us?” Jessica asked.

“You said that she’s ordered a new charm before the murders, with the exception of Jack,” Sam nodded towards Alex as he spoke, “so we wait until she places her next order. Then we follow her until she strikes.”

“You mean we get to have you two behind us all day?” Jessica grinned, winking at Sam.

“In a sense,” he smiled back. He had to admit, he was starting to warm up to the woman.

“But we’ll have to keep our distance,” Dean said, interrupting the two making eyes at each other across the table. “If she finds out we’re on to her, she might skip town, and we can’t take that chance.”

“Alright then. You two should get a room at the local motel and we’ll let you know when she shows up again,” Alex said, standing. She walked them to the door and grabbed Dean’s sleeve as he stepped out. “We usually open the shop at eight through the week, and nine on Saturdays.”

He looked down where she still had ahold of his jacket before she released him. “We won’t be far,” he assured her. “You’ll be safe ‘til we take her down. I promise.” With that, he turned and joined Sam in the car. He gave her one last look before starting the car and backing out of the drive. She stood on the porch and watched the car until the motor’s rumble faded from her ears. They all knew that it was only a matter of time before Gilda found her next victim, and Alex prayed that it ended quickly so she could move on with her life.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam and Dean watched from their spot down the street as Alex pulled her GTO into a parking place not too far from the store’s entrance and she and Jessica got out. Dean whistled lowly as Alex shut the door and took in her surroundings. “Damn,” he whispered.

“Seriously, Dean?” Sam scoffed.

“Dude, did you see the car she just got out of?” Dean asked his brother as he watched them enter the building. The women had taken Jessica’s SUV all week, so this was the first time Dean had seen Alex’s car. “That car is in mint condition. No telling how much it cost.” 

“Right, because you were staring at the car.”

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam, who was staring at his brother in disbelief. “Sammy, that is a black, 1972 Pontiac GTO sitting over there. Did you not hear the engine in that thing? Show some respect,” he scolded, slapping his brother’s shoulder and ducking to avoid a flick to the ear.

They sat there for a few hours watching as absolutely nothing happened other than the usual customer flow. Around 11:00a.m., Jessica exited the shop, purse slung over her shoulder, and walked down the sidewalk. Probably getting some lunch, Dean thought. After a beat, he slapped the steering wheel and opened the door. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked.

“Gotta stretch my legs,” Dean replied, getting out and shutting the door. He leaned back into the window and spoke to his brother. “Keep an eye on things out here, and let me know if you see anything strange.” He straightened and crossed the street, heading right for Curly Q’s.

“Oh this should be good,” Sam mumbled, glancing around.

Dean entered the shop and took a quick look around. It was a bit small, but felt bigger due to the high ceilings and white paneling covering the walls. The shelves were packed with everything from bags to candles to weird little trinkets of some kind, and music played softly from speakers placed throughout the store. He was immediately hit with the smell of something lemon-y fresh, and scoured the room for the source. Finally, his eyes landed on a candle burning beside the cash register and smiled at Alex as she ran an older lady’s card through the machine. She was chatting politely, a pale pink apron covering her clothing and dark hair pulled back, and laughed at a comment the woman had made when her eyes landed on Dean. He gave her a small wave and continued to browse the shelves as he waited for her to finish up.

Alex waved goodbye to the customer, and after she exited onto the street, Alex made a beeline for the man that was supposed to be outside. He was picking up a carved wooden box and lifted the lid before sniffing the inside. Dean made a face of disgust and quickly replaced the item on the shelf before moving on, hands in his green canvas jacket. I was right, Alex thought as she took a moment to appreciate the way his jeans fit his butt. It was so fine. She shook the thought from her head and spoke up. “Uh, Dean?” she asked.

“Yeah?” he said, turning around.

“Whatcha doing here? I thought you were going to keep your distance?” She tilted her head and placed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. 

“I saw Jessica leave, and I wanted to stretch a bit anyway, so I figured I’d come see how you’re doing,” he explained, hand gesturing as he did so. “So, uh, how are you doing, you know, in here?” he asked, twirling a finger in the air.

“You mean in my own store?” Alex grinned. “Dean, I’m more comfortable here than I am in my own house,” she told him. “I’m fine.”

Dean nodded a couple of times. “Good, good.” He continued to eye the merchandise, meandering around the shelves like he had nothing better to do than inspect each and every item there. Alex crossed her arms as she watched him move, the laid back, casual way he walked annoying her with each step he took.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he finished perusing yet another display.

He popped his head up and smirked at her over the top shelf. “I’m investigating,” he said, only half joking.

“Investigating what?” Alex narrowed her eyes as she made her way over to the corner where he stood peering at a display of antique, leather-bound novels.

Dean reached back behind the shelf, his arm completely covered up to his shoulder and tongue peaking partially out of the corner of his mouth. “Investigating…this!” he said as he pulled a small wireless speaker out from behind the display. He grinned proudly and tossed it into the air before catching it in his palm. 

“Dude!” Alex attempted to snatch the small box from him, but Dean quickly pulled it out of her reach, laughing the whole time. “Do you have any idea how heavy that case is?” she fumed. “It’ll take forever to get the speaker back where I had it!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean said quickly, stretching to keep it out of her reach with one hand and holding the other up between them. “If you would calm down,” he continued slowly, “I’ll give it back, but I was just curious as to where the Zeppelin tunes were coming from.” 

She backed away, crossed her arms again, and stared at him. “Are you going to put it back when you’re done?” she grumbled.

“I might,” he replied. Dean turned the item over in his hands a few times, studying it closely, before holding it up for her to see. “Hey Alex? Who plays rock music in a gift shop anyway?”

She stopped, the way Dean was positioned and even the look on his face transporting her back to the last morning she spent with her husband. “Jack,” she breathed, her eyes distant and unable to see who was really standing in front of her.

“Alex?” Dean asked cautiously. “Hey! Alex!” he said louder, waving a hand in front of her face, but she didn’t see him. She only saw her husband standing in the doorway of their kitchen as he held up a box similar in size to the speaker and asked her what it was.

Suddenly, Alex was snapped back to the present by a pair of hands gripping her upper arms tightly. She sucked in a shaky breath and met the pair of green eyes above her that were frantically searching hers. “Dean?” she questioned, confused as to who exactly she was seeing. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, shaking her gently. 

She swallowed as her dark eyes darted back and forth. “I, I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just, the way you were standing…” she trailed off. 

“What?” he implored, still searching her face for signs of a spell, or anything that could reveal what had just happened.

“You looked just like him,” Alex croaked, eyes finally locking on Dean’s face. He huffed and pulled back slightly, putting more than the few inches that had previously been between them, but left his hands on her arms.

“What do you mean?”

“The last few hours I had with him,” she explained, “it was the morning before he went missing. He stood there and held up the box Gilda had ordered for the other victim, and, and he asked me what it was. I just brushed it off,” Alex said quietly. “I didn’t think there was anything to it when Jack recognized the package, and he dismissed it because I did first. Jack could’ve broken the case if it wasn’t for me, Dean.” Understanding crossed his face as she spoke. She blamed herself for Jack’s death, had most likely been carrying that around ever since she noticed the box in the crime scene photo, and Dean had made her recall the exact moment she signed her husband’s death warrant.

“It wasn’t your fault, Alex. You had no way of knowing…” He tried to comfort her, really he did, but he’d also been where she was standing now. Dean knew exactly what it was like to blame himself for the death of a loved one, and he knew that words wouldn’t touch the guilt she felt inside. Instead, he pulled her into a hug, their second in as many days, and held her close until his phone rang a few minutes later. “Just a second,” he murmured, digging it out of his pocket. 

“You’ve got company,” Sam said on the other end.

“Thanks. We’ll be ready,” Dean replied before hanging up. “She’s on her way,” he said quickly, pushing Alex towards the back. “Get a grip on yourself, and come out acting like normal. I’ll be here to back you up the whole time.”

Alex nodded and rushed through the curtains, hiding just behind them. She heard the bell above the door and the tell-tale jingle of Gilda Reed’s bracelet as she walked in. Peeking through the small space between the colorful curtains, Alex watched the red-haired woman move around the store. 

“Hello,” Gilda purred as her eyes fell on Dean. 

He glanced up, face full of what looked like surprise as his eyes landed on Gilda. “Hi,” he said before returning to the display he had been looking at.

She cocked her head and stared at the fine specimen before her. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Tell me, are you new to town?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Dean looked back at the woman who was intent on not leaving him alone. “Just passing through,” he said. “I saw the store here and thought I’d buy my wife something before heading home.”

“You’re married?”

“Ten years now,” he smiled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“How wonderful.” Gilda scrutinized him, emerald gaze seeming to bore into his very soul. “Are you here on business?”

“Pleasure, actually,” Dean quipped, “visiting some old friends. I’m supposed to meet them for drinks tonight.” 

Before Gilda could say anything else, Alex strode into the room. “Gilda!” she greeted the woman. “What a nice surprise. What can I do for you?”

Gilda turned towards Alex, and Dean took the opportunity to escape the woman, appearing suddenly interested in the candles across the room. “Hi, Alex,” Gilda smiled. “How are you today?” she asked politely.

“As well as can be expected,” Alex replied, folding her hands in front of her. 

“I’m looking to order another charm.”

“Oh, okay,” Alex nodded. “Well, just have a look at our book, and let me know if you need anything.” 

“Thank you,” Gilda said and walked over to where the large catalogue lay open on a desk beside a pile of forms. 

Alex glanced over just in time to meet Dean’s eyes as he watched the woman walk away. He picked up a random candle and called out to her, “Miss? Do you mind helping me out? I’m not exactly sure which scent would best suit my wife.” He smiled at her sheepishly while scratching his head. 

“Of course!” Alex replied and hurried over to him. She picked up a candle when she reached him and lifted the lid before smelling it.

“Just act natural,” Dean said lowly. Alex lifted the jar and Dean sniffed it before making a face. “Dear Chuck, what is that?” 

“Dear Chuck?” she said, giggling at his reaction. “And its called ‘Popping Pomegranate.’” 

“It’s called disgusting,” Dean said. “Show me another one.” She reached for another jar, but stopped when she felt his hand on her elbow. “Something a little less fruity,” he added before releasing her.

Alex smiled and studied Dean for a moment. “You’re right,” she said, tapping her chin. “You strike me as someone who likes the smell of old leather. Am I right?”

“Actually you are,” Dean conceded. “Anything like that on these shelves?” he asked, looking at the space around them.

“We carry a whole line of scents for men,” Alex explained, moving over to another section of shelving. Dean glanced over his shoulder at Gilda, who was still browsing through the large catalogue, before joining Alex. “Try this,” she said, lifting another open jar up for him to smell. 

He dipped his head and took a whiff, but was pleasantly surprised when he did. “What is that?” Alex smiled as he took another smell of it. “It smells like leather, but with something else, something sweet, too.”

“It’s honey,” she told him. “Helps take the edge off. Smell this one.”

He took the proffered jar and lifted the lid, immediately being hit with a smell he’d know anywhere. “Bourbon, right?” he questioned as he looked at her.

“That’s right,” she said, “with just a touch of caramel.” She laughed at the way he grinned. Okay, she thought, this guy’s definitely got a praise kink. Focus, Alex! 

“Oh, I’m definitely buying this one,” he said, reaching for another jar.

Alex grinned at the boyish way Dean began sampling each candle, the seemingly innocent look in his eyes a refreshing change to the usual serious expression he wore. “I’ll be over there if you need anything,” she told him, pointing over her shoulder at the register. She headed that way and straightened up a bit as she waited for Gilda to finish finding her newest charm. 

Soon enough, the evil bitch, as Alex now liked to think of her, walked up to the register. “Here you are,” Gilda said, her bracelet sliding up to her elbow as she handed Alex a slip of paper with the information on it.

“Thanks,” Alex mumbled, typing the price into the register and adding sales tax and a small shipping charge to the subtotal. “$21.42,” she said. Gilda pulled a small wallet from her purse and counted out some cash while Dean appeared in line behind the woman, a nod encouraging Alex to keep her cool as she dealt with the killer in front of her. 

Alex took the money and quickly counted out some change before forcing a smile on her face as she handed it to Gilda. “Should be here by Monday,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you then.”

“Guess so,” Gilda replied. “Goodbye, Alex.” The woman smiled oddly at her and made her way out the store. 

When she was out the door, Dean pulled out his cell and called Sam. “Hey, you stay on Gilda and I’ll make sure the girls get home safe, then meet you later so we can take her down.”

“Done,” Sam replied, and the Impala’s engine started up in the background before the line went dead. 

Dean pushed his candles across the counter and watched Alex release a breath. “You did good, kid.”

Her eyes popped open and snapped up to meet his own. “Kid?” she asked. “Just how old do you think I am?”

“Not a day over twenty-five,” he grinned.

“And yet I’ve been married almost sev—’ she stopped herself before carrying on. “I was married almost seven years,” she corrected herself, looking away. She couldn’t help it, thinking of Jack still killed her inside, and thinking of what they had together broke her heart. She’d never find it again, she was sure of it. 

Dean stayed quiet, but continued to watch the old soul in front of him. He knew exactly how old she was, Dean just liked to make her smile when he could. Sadly, it’d had the opposite effect this time, and he’d have to make it up to her later somehow.

Alex picked up the phone beside the register and dialed a number she knew by heart. “Jess? Hey, I just wanted to let you know that our visitor just left,” she said. 

“Did she order another charm?” Jessica asked.

“Sure did. Anyway, Sam is going to follow her while Dean makes sure we make it home alright. Do you mind picking him up some food, too?” She eyed him as he tried to tell her something. “Hold on a second, Jessica.” Alex covered the phone and asked Dean, “What?”

“Pie,” he grinned. “See if she can get some of that.”

“Okay,” Alex said slowly. “Dean says to find him some pie if you can,” she spoke into the phone.

“Pie?” Jessica questioned, unsure she’d heard correctly.

Dean nodded excitedly, earning him the smile he’d been searching for earlier. Bingo, he thought.

“That’s what he says,” Alex told her friend. “I’d really appreciate it.”

“Sure thing. Just give me a few extra minutes.” 

“It’s on its way,” Alex told Dean as she hung up. 

“Is she bringing pie?” he asked seriously.

“She’s supposed to.” Dean’s answering smile nearly knocked her breathless. Holy cow the man was beautiful. Alex turned back to her computer and quickly looked up the item number for Gilda’s latest order, her eyes trained on the screen and most definitely not checking out the man beside her. “Take the candles as a gift,” she said quietly. “Thanks for your help, Dean, really.”

He looked down at the jars in front of him and pushed the leather scented one to the side. It didn’t feel right to take both from her now that they were free, even if his name wasn’t on the credit card he’d been planning on paying with a few minutes ago. Dean blinked a couple of times before running a hand down his face. The woman in front of him had some weird type of hold on him, and he wasn’t sure how to act around her. Usually he’d have slept with her by now, but Alex had just lost her husband, and there was something about her that had Dean wanting to know more.

“Here,” she said, pointing to the screen. “Looks like Gilda is ordering a charm in the shape of a guitar. Huh.” Alex furrowed her brows as she stared at the picture.

“What?” Dean asked.

“A guitar could mean anything,” she explained, waving a hand in the air as she spoke. “The guy could be in a band, or a music teacher, or sell instruments. He could be anyone!” she groaned.

“That’s why we’re going to keep an eye on her, see who she’s stalking. Actually,” Dean started, “you could be a big help to us.”

“How’s that?” Alex snapped.

“You know most of the people in town, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I guess. What difference does it make?” she said as a customer entered the store.

Dean leaned forward onto the counter between he and Alex and lowered his voice. “You could come with us and spot the likely targets before she even makes a move,” he said, his gravelly tone giving Alex all kinds of butterfly feelings in her gut.

“It would give me the chance to have an active hand in taking her down,” she admitted. “I’ll see if Jessica can keep an eye on A.J. tonight while we go meet Sam. That way I know she’s safe.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean grinned. “I’ll let him know.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Alex checked one more time as she zipped up her boots. She had just gotten dressed and was now sitting on the bed opposite Jessica who was in yoga pants and a loose fitting tee. 

“We’ll be fine, Lex, promise.” Jessica scooted closer to her friend and placed a hand on her knee. “Besides, you need to get out for a bit, even if it is to snag a murdering hag,” she said, scrunching her nose.

Alex stood and placed her hands on her hips while looking around the room. “What am I doing?” she asked desperately, running a hand through her hair. “I haven’t been to a bar with a man that wasn’t Jack in almost eight years.”

“It’s not like it’s a date,” Jessica explained. She grinned suggestively. “Although…” 

“No!” Alex snapped, pointing a finger in her friend’s direction. “It’s not like that. Dean and his partner are just helping us out and trying to close a case in the process. Once Gilda is arrested, they’ll be gone, and we’ll never see them again.” She grew quiet as her statement really sunk in for the first time. She hadn’t really thought about it before now, but it was true. After the whole thing with Gilda was tied up, they’d go back to D.C. or wherever it was they came from. Strangely, Alex felt a tug in her chest as she thought about not seeing the two men again. She’d gotten used to having Sam and Dean watching her back and the way Dean made her feel safe, and the idea of turning around and not seeing them there kinda freaked her out.

“Good thing this isn’t a date then,” Jessica sighed exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes. “You’re definitely going tonight,” she said, “and you’re definitely having a drink as soon as you get there.”

“Just, please, call me if anything comes up, okay?” Alex said, looking at her friend.

Jessica placed a hand on her heart and raised the other in the air. “I solemnly swear not to call unless it is absolutely necessary so you can focus on the task at hand, ergo, catching the sly bitch that killed your husband, and have a damned good time doing it,” she finished with a smile.

“You’re such a loser,” Alex grinned. “Lock up after we leave?” 

“Aye, aye, cap!” Jessica joked with a mock salute, standing up off the bed. 

Alex eased down the hall to A.J.’s room and peeked in. She had put her to bed right before getting herself ready, and A.J. was now sleeping soundly, her blanket pulled up close to her chin. “I love you, babe,” Alex whispered before pulling the door closed and joining Jessica at the top of the stairs. 

“You ready?” she asked.

“I guess so,” Alex replied, pushing her hair back again.

“Knock ‘em dead, hot stuff!” Jessica commanded, giving her friend a hard slap on the rear, earning a loud yelp in return.

“Everything okay up there?” Dean called, poking his head over the railing at the foot of the stairs.

“Fine! We’re fine,” Alex returned, rubbing her butt and shooting Jessica a dirty look. She started down the steps, and Dean’s heart stopped as he got a good view of her. Shit, he thought. I am so dead.

Alex was wearing black, short heeled boots and dark skinny jeans that hugged her curves oh so perfectly. She had on a faded grey sleeveless ACDC shirt with a black leather jacket slung over her arm, and her dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders, the soft waves contrasting sharply as they brushed against her pale skin. She’d applied minimal makeup, but it was more than Dean was used to seeing on her, and it highlighted her soft brown eyes. Yep. He was definitely a goner for sure.

“I’m assuming that Sam still has your car, right?” Alex asked as she reached him. Dean nodded quickly, unable to figure out where exactly his voice had run off to at the moment. She flashed him a quick smile and said, “Then it looks like I’m driving,” before walking by him towards the garage door on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Break your neck why don’t you,” Jessica grumbled, causing Dean’s jaw to snap together.

“What?” he asked.

“Dude, you were staring so hard.” She patted his arm and followed Alex to the other side of the room. Dean scratched his head and took a few quick strides to catch up to the women before opening the door for Alex. 

“Please call if you need anything,” she told her friend while hugging her close.

“I will,” Jessica replied. “Promise.” She pulled away and smiled. “Good luck you two.” She closed the door behind them, and Dean heard the telltale click of a lock being turned as he followed Alex down the steps to her car. 

Alex slipped behind the wheel and started the car as Dean lifted the garage door behind her. She eased the GTO out of its space and braked gently, waiting as Dean returned the door to its original position, looking around as he ambled towards her and got in. 

“I’m not really used to this,” he admitted.

“What? Riding with a chick instead of Sam?” she asked, backing onto the street and putting the transmission in drive.

“Riding shotgun, period,” he told her, feeling the purr of the engine as she pressed the gas.

“Makes sense. You seem like the kind of guy who usually takes charge,” Alex mumbled, reaching down to flip on the CD player.

“I do,” he agreed, “most of the time, anyway, but it’s more that I don’t trust just anyone behind the wheel of my baby.”

“She’s a beautiful car. You should be proud.”

Dean stared out the window, his elbow propped on the lip below it, as the opening chords of “Bron-Yr-Aur” began playing. After the last notes faded and a different song began, Dean glanced at Alex out of the corner of his eye. “She was my dad’s first,” he told her quietly. “I’ve been riding around in her my whole life, and she’s practically a member of the family.”

Alex simply hummed in response, and Dean took a moment to check out the interior of the car he’d drooled over earlier today. The black leather seats, the rock music in the background, the faint smell of her perfume in the air…it was all very homey. And then he saw the radio.

Spinning quickly in his seat, Dean whipped his head around to face her, eyes bulging and scaring the mess out of Alex in the process. “Do you have a CD player in here?” he demanded.

“May, maybe,” she stammered, glancing rapidly between the road and the man interrogating her from the passenger seat. “I like music,” Alex explained, “and a lot of stuff isn’t available on cassette tapes.”

“How the hell can you do that to a car like this?” Dean shouted, hand gesturing wildly towards the dash and breaths coming in rapid succession. 

“Dean,” she said slowly, “it’s a car, my car, and you need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” he snapped. Alex flinched back a few inches, eyebrows raised in obvious offense, before turning back to the road and swapping over to the “Back in Black” album, attempting to tamp down her irritation with the sound of the guitar. “I just don’t understand why,” Dean explained at a more reasonable volume.

“Like I said,” Alex told him through gritted teeth, “I like music, lots of music, and I chose to alter this car in order to have my music.” She pulled over on the side of the road as she spoke and now faced him fully. “If you have a problem with that, then I suggest you get out now so you can walk the rest of the way.”

Dean stared back at her, eyes large and round under her withering gaze, before regaining his wits. “Al?” he whispered cautiously. He’d need to tread lightly with her. She obviously had a bit of an anger management issue.

“What?” she spit. 

“We have a witch, bitch,” he corrected quickly, “to catch, and if we don’t get there soon we’re gonna miss her.” They stared at each other a bit longer before Alex narrowed her eyes at him and finally caved, carefully easing the accelerator down again and pulling away from the shoulder of the road.

“What kind of music do you like, Dean?” Alex asked in a mock casual voice.

He eyed her skeptically before replying, “Classic rock.” He watched as she smirked and, just to spite him, popped in a new CD. It took a minute for the track to start, but once it did, Dean groaned, head falling back to the headrest. “Seriously?” he asked, hand over his face.

“Oh I’m always serious, Dean-o,” Alex grinned as she reached down and cranked the volume up, singing along with the artist. “Right, right, turn off the lights, We gonna lose our minds tonight, What’s the dealio?”

“Why?” Dean asked, looking at her for an explanation.

“P!nk is a total badass,” Alex said, thumbs still tapping along to the beat. 

“Who names their kid a color?” Dean wondered aloud.

“It’s a stage name, Dean,” she winked before picking up the chorus with a shout. “So raise your glass if you are wrong, In all the right ways, All my underdogs, We will never be, never be, anything but loud and nitty gritty, dirty little freaks!”

“Cute,” Dean admitted with a grumble as she pumped a hand in the air and continued singing. He rolled his eyes at her, but smiled at her antics anyway. Alex continued belting out the lyrics at the top of her lungs until they neared the bar Sam had called from.

Alex grew quiet as they pulled into the parking lot and parked beside the Impala. She cut the engine and looked down at her hands in her lap. They sat there a beat in the silence before Dean spoke up. “I’ll go in first, scope the place out, and you follow me a few minutes later, okay?” She nodded once, and he continued. “Don’t act like you know me or Sam. Just act natural and let us know if you see anything suspicious.” He stared at her for a minute, the closed off body language completely different from how she’d been acting only minutes before. Ducking his head to see her better, Dean asked, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, pushing her hair back as she gazed out the windshield. “I’m fine. Just ready for it all to be over.”

He stared at her a second longer, quietly contemplating whether or not bringing her along was the good idea he made it out to be to Sam. They needed her, and Dean was pretty sure she could handle it as long as they kept her out of the action. Of course, that might be harder than it looked, seeing as how she wanted to see it through to the end, but he was determined to keep Alex safe.

He exited the car and gave her one last look before opening the door to the bar and walking inside. The bar was like any number of the ones he’d visited over the years: scarred floors, wooden bar along the wall, pool tables in the back, and a beat up jukebox blaring in the corner. Smoke stung his eyes, but Dean scanned the room quickly before he landed on the two people he’d been searching for. 

Sam sat in a booth near the back, where he could easily view the entire room, nursing a beer with one long arm slung casually along the back of the seat. He nodded slightly at Dean before moving on to other things. Dean turned and headed for the end of the bar nearest the door, catching the cute bartender’s eye as he sat down, and he, too, ordered a longneck to sip on. He smiled at the woman as she slid the bottle to him and thanked her quietly. 

Taking a long draw from the bottle, he let his eyes wander over to the redhead sitting just a few spots down from him. Gilda was stirring the straw in some fruity pink drink, seemingly minding her own business, but every few minutes her eyes would flick up to the mirror behind the bar, probably scoping out her victim.

The door behind him opened, the cool night air raising goosebumps on his skin, and Dean turned to see Alex just as she let the door fall closed behind her. She strutted to an open spot at the other end of the bar and flagged down the bartender for a drink. They exchanged a few words, and Alex smiled at something the woman said before looking right at Dean and nodding in agreement. The bartender left but returned a few seconds later with a glass filled with a dark liquid. Crap, Dean thought as he watched her tip it back and tap lightly on the rim for another, she’s gonna get drunk. That’s all they needed was for her to get wasted and run around reckless. Dean turned back to his beer and the mirror behind the bar with an inaudible sigh, better not to draw attention to the girl by staring at her too long. 

“She’s gonna get herself hurt.”

“Yep.” Dean turned to his brother who had taken the spot beside him at the bar. Sam was resting his forearms on the battered wooden surface, gently cradling his beer bottle between his hands.

“I told you this wasn’t a good idea, Dean,” he hissed.

“We need her,” Dean rebutted quickly.

Sam scoffed. “We need her, or you need her?” 

Dean took a swig of his beer and dropped the bottle a little too forcefully back on the bar, drawing a pointed glance from the bartender, and turned an irritated glare on his brother. “We need her, Sam. Us. For the case. She knows nearly every person in this room, man, and now that we have an idea of who the witch is going after, Alex can point them out for us so we can protect the guy.”

“Yeah, well, I just think you’re getting a little too caught up in a pretty girl,” Sam grumbled. “A girl who just lost her husband, might I add.” They sat together in silence for another minute, Dean going back to his drink, before Sam spoke up. “You need to back off.” 

Down the bar, Alex was just about finished with the last of her Four Roses. While she tipped the first drink back quickly to get a good jolt in her system, the second glass lasted longer as she sipped it slowly, savoring the spice on her tongue and gentle burn in her throat. It had been a while since she’d had more than one glass, but over the course of the last month Alex had been having at least one drink every couple of nights on the couch at home. It was her way of relaxing her mind just enough to catch a few hours of sleep. She gave the glass a small spin and stared at the amber liquid as it swirled around the edges. 

“A girl could spend all night lost in her thoughts like that,” a voice beside her said, startling Alex out of her trance. She snapped her head up, eyes landing on the red-haired woman beside her in the mirror.

“Gilda,” she managed, panic and fear gripping her insides. Alex blinked a few times, the shock to her system forcing her to scramble for some kind of intelligent speech. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” Gilda smiled. “What are you doing here, Alex?” she asked as she turned her gaze from the woman’s reflection to her face. 

“A, a drink,” Alex stammered. “I needed a drink,” she laughed nervously.

Gilda tipped her head to the side, eyes boring into Alex’s own, before nodding at her own glass on the bar. “Same,” she said.

Alex hummed softly in response, taking another sip of her drink and glancing briefly down the bar at Sam and Dean. Her heart slowed some with the reassurance their presence gave her, and Dean managed to move a few spots closer to Gilda while she had her back turned to him. 

“Troubles?” Gilda asked again. 

“Just the usual,” Alex mumbled. “I needed a break from home, just for a few hours,” she lied through her teeth.

“Understandable,” Gilda agreed. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to raise a child on your own. Where is the little darling, anyway?”

“Oh, she’s safe.” Alex looked up at the woman beside her. “I wouldn’t have left her with just anyone,” she explained. 

“Are you here alone?” Gilda asked suddenly, her face appearing at once concerned and slightly irritated. Alex fought the urge to look at Dean a few spaces away as she nodded. “But how will you get home?” 

“I’ve got someone picking me up later.”

“Good thing,” Gilda said, backing off her stool. “Wouldn’t want to risk your daughter losing you because you chose to drive under the influence.” Gilda winked before running a hand up Alex’s arm to her shoulder and leaning in close. “Be careful out there, Alex,” she whispered, her voice just carrying over the music playing on the jukebox. 

Alex released a shaky breath as the woman walked away, a chill settling in her bones. Her gaze fell on Dean as he slid onto the seat Gilda had just vacated. “You’re fine, kid. Just breathe.” Alex watched as Sam made his way to a pool table in the back and joined the game about to start. 

“I think she knows,” Alex choked out. “She knows that I know she did it.”

“What did she say to you?” Dean asked, worry gripping him, urging him to finish the case before anything happened to the woman in front of him. 

“She said to be careful, and she was asking all these questions about why I was here and where A.J. was, and…” Alex’s eyes widened at the thought of her daughter. “Shit. A.J. Do you think she’ll go after her?”

Dean shook his head slowly. “She shouldn’t, but I wouldn’t rule it out. Our best bet is to take Gilda down before she makes a move on anyone.” He paused as Alex absorbed that information, the reassurance being exactly what she needed to regain her wits. “Now,” he started again, “do you have any idea who she might target?”

“There’s a guy playing pool with Sam, the one in the white button down.” Dean’s eyes flicked up to the man she described and nodded. “He’s the band teacher at the high school, but he visits the local nursing homes pretty frequently to play his guitar and sing. He’s the one she’s after, has to be.”

“Okay, then. Stay here,” Dean told her, staring her in the eye. “Don’t move until I come get you. Sam and I will take care of her when it’s time, but you can’t be around when we do.”

“Dean, I have to be there,” Alex argued. “I’m going to see her get arrested.”

“You can’t,” he insisted, placing a hand over hers on the bar. “I can’t be worried about you while I try to take her down.” 

Alex looked down at where they were joined before casting questioning eyes back up at him. “Why do you care so much?”

Dean pulled his hand back and stood quickly. “I don’t,” he said with a blank expression, emotions locked down tight. 

Alex watched as he ran a hand down his face and walked straight back to Sam beside the pool table, leaning on the wall casually beside him and whispering something behind his raised bottle before taking a drink. Sam didn’t react except to glance over at the supposed victim as he lined up his next shot. 

She was fuming at this point, the alcohol thrumming in her veins and mixing with adrenaline. Alex almost slid out of her seat to give Dean a piece of her mind, but stopped herself, the idea of ruining all she’d been working for recently sobering her somewhat. The stupid handsome FBI agent thought he knew everything. “He ought to be listening to me,” she grumbled. “I’m the one who gave them most of what they know anyway. They didn’t do crap.”

“Can I get you another, honey?” the bartender asked as Alex drained her glass. 

She started to respond with a “Screw it, why not?” but stopped as her eyes caught Gilda slipping behind her in the mirror and heading straight for the door. “No, I think I’m done. Thanks,” Alex smiled, dropping some bills on the bar. She glanced quickly back at Sam and Dean, who were attempting to make their way through the throng of people that had packed the bar in the last few minutes, and made a snap decision to follow Gilda herself.

Alex locked eyes with Dean as he pushed past a burly biker looking man and understanding flashed across his face as she stood and went after Gilda. She wove her way through the people, wondering briefly why everyone suddenly decided to head onto the dancefloor, and finally broke out of the crowd just in time to see the heavy door close. 

“No,” she whined, racing forward and slinging it open. Alex felt the cool night air on her face as she frantically scanned the parking lot. “Shit, shit, shit!” She ran down to the corner of the building and peered around the edge, hoping to see the bright shock of red hair a few yards away, but was disappointed to find the alley deserted. Alex dropped her head back against the wooden siding on the building, eyes closed as she caught her breath, and wondered how she could have lost the woman.

Faintly, Alex heard a quiet jingle, and she opened her eyes in time to see Gilda standing inches away as she whispered the word “out” before everything went black.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean locked eyes with Alex as he pushed by a man twice his size, desperately trying to make his way through the people around him, so he saw when she decided to follow the witch. “Alex, don’t!” he yelled, but “Thunderstruck” drowned out his voice before it could reach her ears, and she turned towards the door anyway. Dean surged forward with a new intensity, fear pushing him that much harder towards his goal. 

He and Sam barely made it out the door before they had their guns drawn and were searching the parking lot. They crept quietly between the cars and pickups that filled the area, splitting up to cover more ground, but as Dean reached the other side and saw Sam lift his arms hopelessly, nausea threatened to overwhelm him.  
“Anything?” he asked his brother desperately.

Sam shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, walking over to where Dean stood. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, spinning around with the side of his gun pressed closely to his temple. He screwed his eyes shut tightly for a few seconds before glaring at the bar and marching inside, Sam hot on his heels.

“I need to see your cameras that face the parking lot,” he screamed over the music at the bartender. She shrunk back in fear and shook her head quickly side to side. 

“We don’t have any,” she admitted. “The only ones are above the cash register in here and in the back room.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t have anybody watching the door or anything out front?” he thundered.

“Dean,” Sam said into his ear as he put a heavy hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Calm down, man.”

Dean spun to face the taller man. “I am calm!”

“Then act like it!” Sam shouted back. “She doesn’t know anything, so let’s try something else.”

Dean breathed slowly in and out his nose for a few seconds before throwing the bartender another withering glare and stomping out the door. By the time Sam made it outside, Dean was almost to where the two cars were parked, and he scrambled to catch up, but Dean already had Baby running when he slid inside, and they peeled out heading straight for the hotel where they were staying to pick up a few more items they might need.

When they hit the highway, Sam pulled out his phone and dialed Jessica’s number, praying she picked up quickly. 

“Hello?”

“Jess!”

“Sam? What’s going on? Are ya’ll alright?” she asked.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes before speaking. “No. No we’re not. We can’t find Alex.” There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment Sam thought she’d hung up. 

“What?” Jessica responded flatly.

“Gilda went outside, and Alex followed her before we could get to her, but when we got out there she was gone,” he explained.

“What about her car? Was it still there, or was it gone?”

“It was still there,” Sam sighed. “She had the keys.”

“Shit. Shit, Sam!”

“We,” he paused, chancing a glance at his brother in the driver’s seat. “We think Gilda took her.”

“What?!” Jessica screamed. “Sam! What do we do? You’ve gotta find her before something bad happens!”

The guilt was already eating away at his soul, and Sam was certain Dean was already berating himself for losing her, too, but hearing Jessica freak out like that just made it so much worse. “We’re trying,” he told her. “Look, just lock the doors, cut the lights, and hide with A.J. until you hear from us, okay? You have to make it look like no one’s home just in case she goes there next.”

“Okay, Sam. Just bring her home, alright?”

Sam looked over at Dean again and nodded with resolve. “We will,” he said. “Stay safe, Jess.” He hung up and reached behind the seat for his laptop, pulling up the search bar to try and find out where Gilda would go with a victim. 

After what seemed like forever, they whipped into the parking lot of the motel, and Dean jumped out to grab their bags while Sam stayed in the car and continued his research. There wasn’t much on the woman at all, but after searching the name of her aunt who passed away shortly before Gilda moved to town, he had a breakthrough.

“So get this,” he said as Dean got back into the car and threw it into reverse, “it turns out that Gilda’s aunt had a place a couple of counties over that she left to Gilda when she passed away.”

“Does it give an address?” Dean asked frantically.

“Uh, yeah. 55 Crystal Springs Road.”

“Good,” Dean nodded and pressed harder on the gas.

_____________

Alex woke to a pounding in her skull and an ache in between her shoulder blades. She groaned quietly and attempted to rub her head but found her wrists bound behind her. Her eyes snapped open and she immediately took in her surroundings, the memory of leaving the bar coming back to her instantly. 

It was cool, but not too cold, and a single bulb hung from a cord above her in the small shed, allowing her to just make out the corners in the room. Faintly, Alex could hear someone breathing steadily a few feet behind where she sat, and she forced herself to relax a bit. 

“You’re awake.” 

“Hello, Gilda,” Alex stated flatly. If she was going to get loose, then she had to get the woman talking. She cocked her head and asked, “What can I do for you this fine evening?” She held her breath and waited as Gilda slowly walked around the chair, her silver bracelet jingling softly in the still air.

“There’s a lot you can do for me, Alex,” she said, coming to a stop in front of her. Her voice was steady, but Gilda crossed her arms and stared Alex down in the same creepy way she always did, her eyes seemingly boring into the soul.

“Why, I don’t think I know what you mean,” Alex said in mock confusion as she began working her wrists back and forth against each other. Hopefully she could get them into a position that enabled her to slide at least one free. “Care to explain?”

“Don’t play coy,” Gilda told her, placing a hand on either armrest and leaning forward. “I prefer we be honest with each other for once.” Alex laughed at that, and Gilda paused. “I know why you were really at the bar tonight, and those two men?” She narrowed her eyes. “They were hunters.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex asked. This time the confusion on her face was very real. “Hunters?”

“The male model and his fitness instructor friend? I know the type,” Gilda explained, “but it was the car that gave them away. I haven’t been in the business long, but closing your mouth and opening your ears is a great way to learn new things.” She pushed off the chair and pulled a chair of her own over to sit in front of Alex, the metal legs grating loudly on the cement floor. 

“What business? Murdering people?” Alex sneered. 

“Partially,” the fiery-haired woman admitted. She tilted her head as she stared at Alex before barking a laugh of her own. “Ha! You have no idea who you’ve been riding with, do you?” she asked. Alex stayed silent, trying to figure out just what this lady was blabbering about while squeezing one hand almost all the way out of the zip ties. Gilda crossed her legs and leaned forward just a bit as she smiled and said, “Alex, honey, tell me who you think those men are.”

“They’re FBI agents,” she mumbled, although now she was starting to doubt that she had all the facts. Gilda’s smile grew as she shook her head. Just a little more, Alex thought, and I’ll be able to knock this psycho out.

“Did those ‘FBI agents’ tell you their names?” Gilda mocked. 

Alex sighed. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“Well,” Gilda started, “I thought I’d bring you here and threaten you to turn over all your evidence, but it seems as though we’re going to chit chat first, so let me just grab something to expedite the process,” she said as she stood and walked back to the space behind Alex. 

Alex watched her go as much as her neck would allow, but eventually she had to rely on her ears to tell what was going on. It sounded like Gilda was whispering to someone, but who? “So who are they, really?” Alex asked.

“Their real names are Sam and Dean Winchester,” Gilda called. “They’re brothers, and they kill people like myself.”

“People like you?”

“Witches.” The tone of Gilda’s voice was so natural and light that you’d think she was discussing the weather.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” Alex asked. “Clearly I misunderstood you, because I thought you said—”

“Witches, Alex,” Gilda finished as she sat in her chair once more. The difference was who she now held in her arms. 

“A.J.,” Alex breathed, panic rising in her chest. She had to escape now. “Give her back, you bitch,” she spit, blood boiling. 

Gilda frowned. “Alex,” she scolded, “you really shouldn’t use language like that around an angel like this.” She ran her hand lightly over A.J.’s hair as she spoke, the child unconscious in her arms. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Alex demanded, hand working its way out of the ties. “What did you do?”

“What I had to do in order to get your attention,” Gilda explained. “She’ll wake up soon, but first, I need something from you.”

“Name it,” Alex told her, hand pulling free.

“Destroy all the evidence you have against me, or—” Alex lunged at the woman before she could finish her sentence and snaked her arms between Gilda and A.J. as they fell. Alex pulled A.J. away from Gilda and scrambled to get away before Gilda got her feet under her, but a hand on her ankle told her that she’d failed, and Alex pushed A.J. as far away from her as possible before rolling over and giving a swift kick to the other woman’s face.

Gilda grunted as her head flew back, the blow landing on her nose, but she didn’t lose her grip on Alex’s ankle and Gilda pulled herself on top of the dark haired woman just in time to block a right hook. She threw a punch of her own that grazed Alex’s jaw before catching the woman’s wrists and slamming her down against the concrete.

Dazed, Alex blinked a few times, trying to regain her focus, and saw Gilda reach into her pocket and pull out a tiny bag of some sort. Gilda tried to shove it into Alex’s mouth, but Alex bit her lip and tossed her head rapidly back and forth in an attempt to keep the object away and bucked her hips to throw Gilda off balance.   
Alex took advantage and shoved the woman hard, adding another swift kick to the gut for good measure, before climbing on top of her, but she was thrown off herself as Gilda started laughing. 

“The hell are you laughing at?” Alex grunted as she landed a quick punch to the woman’s cheekbone. Suddenly she was thrust backwards by an unseen force and slid across the floor to the other wall where a bar of some sort impaled her right shoulder, and Alex’s scream filled the small building, reverberating off the walls.  
Gilda stood and brushed herself off as she made her way over to A.J. She scooped up the child and held her close before glancing back at Alex. “You just don’t get it, do you?” she smiled. “You’ll never win this one, Alex. You’re no match for me.” Flames appeared out of nowhere along the bottom of the wall nearest Alex as Gilda spoke, devouring the pile of boxes and papers there. Alex’s eyes widened as she noticed for the first time what those boxes said on the side. There in her husband’s handwriting were the words “Alcohol Murders.”

“They weren’t hard to find,” Gilda called. “You really should have made sure A.J. was actually safe before leaving tonight, but then, grief can make us do all kinds of crazy things.” She stepped closer and crouched down so that she was eye to eye with Alex as she said, “Jessica put up a hell of a fight, but she wasn’t a match for me either.” Again, flames rose up from nowhere, licking at everything they came across. 

Alex’s stomach dropped at the mention of her best friend, sure that she, too, had fallen to the monster in front of her, and a tear slipped down her cheek as she stared the woman down. “At least now you’ll know that she’ll never be in danger again,” Gilda said before standing. She walked over to the wooden crib in the corner and gently kissed A.J. on the forehead before laying her inside.

Alex watched Gilda walk out as the flames closed in, but she refused to give up. Putting both hands on the wall behind her, Alex pushed as hard as she could, a long groan escaping her gritted teeth, dislodging the bar and pulling free. She staggered to her feet and tried to ignore the amount of blood now spreading across her shirt as she reached the crib and scooped her baby into her arms. 

Alex turned, but all she saw was fire, and she coughed as she inhaled some of the thick, black smoke. She bent over as much as she could and held A.J. close to her chest, surging forwards with all the energy she had left. They were almost out, she told herself. Just a little further. The smoke burned its way down her throat, and the flames singed her hair, but still Alex moved, desperate to save her daughter.   
She made it to the door, but giving it a few hard shoves did nothing to open it, and Alex collapsed against it, her heart breaking with the knowledge that they might not escape. She curled up on her side, A.J. tucked between her and the old wooden door, and prayed for a miracle. She thought she heard a loud gunshot coming from outside, but she was just too tired to hang on, and Alex slipped into unconsciousness, a gentle voice calling her name from the darkness.


	14. Chapter 14

There were brief flashes here and there that Alex was aware of: hands everywhere, a tube being shoved down her throat, bright white hospital lights, a man’s voice screaming for help. Other things sank in more clearly though, like the rumble of an engine and the feeling of being cradled in strong arms. Regardless, when Alex woke up, it was with a shock, her eyes flying open, and her throat constricting around a plastic tube as she gasped in a lungful of air before coughing. A warm hand caught her just before she could rip the thing out, and a low voice near her ear gently coaxed her to calm down and release it as another one a few feet away called for a nurse.

Her main focus was on keeping her breathing at a steady pace as a doctor and nurse entered the room, both talking rapidly and trying to explain something before pulling the tube out. Alex coughed several more times, that same warm hand rubbing circles on her back as she sat up, tears escaping the corners of her closed eyes. Once she caught her breath, Alex inhaled deeply, coughing once more as her lungs stretched, and fell back against the pillows before letting her head turn to the right and opening her eyes. 

“Hey,” the man sitting there whispered, his face just inches away. Alex searched his face, her bloodshot eyes moving rapidly as they took in every detail. His green eyes were tight around the edges with dark circles underneath, and a spattering of freckles fell across his nose. His pink lips were pursed as if he was unsure of what to say next, but through her inspection, he continued to stare her down. 

“Dean,” she croaked, her voice rough from disuse and the breathing tube. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m here, Al.” He reached up and pushed a strand of hair away from her fierce eyes but never broke his gaze. 

She attempted to clear her throat, but found it pointless. “A.J.?” she asked. 

He shook his head ever so slightly, and Alex’s world fell apart, her strangled sob barely a whisper as it passed her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut and caught Dean’s wrist as he laid a hand on her face. He tipped his head forwards a bit, resting his forehead against hers as she cried silently. 

They made it in time to shoot the witch, but the door was stubborn, and they didn’t bust through in time to save them both. Dean had grabbed Alex while Sam ran with the toddler, and they drove like crazy to get to the nearest hospital. The doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, but A.J.’s tiny body just wasn’t strong enough to fight and win. Smoke inhalation, the doctor had said as he told them the news. It was another few hours before they were allowed to see Alex due to the surgery on her shoulder taking longer than expected, and she stayed in a coma for a week before waking.

A week. 

A whole freaking week of staying by her side and leaving only to bathe in the bathroom sink. A week of whispered prayers and death threats uttered by what was left of his voice. A week of Sammy begging him to eat and Dean caving for a granola bar every couple of days. A week of almost losing her.

He didn’t know what to expect when she woke up. He assumed she knew something was off, but he didn’t know how to tell her, and after a while, she calmed some and, after confirming that Jessica was, in fact, dead, said the word "hunter." Dean held her hand and explained everything to her, all of what they did and why they’d lied to her. They sat in silence for several minutes after that as she mulled it over, but to his surprise, she didn’t push him away.

“I’m alone,” she whispered finally, her brows furrowing as she looked away. Everyone was gone. Jack, A.J., Jessica, and even Bill and Ramona were never coming back.

“No,” Dean said firmly, drawing her eyes back to his. “You’re not alone, and you won’t be as long as you want me here. Until you say the word, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re family,” he said. She nodded slowly, her eyes beginning to droop, and he watched as sleep overcame her once more. There was still so much to do, so much to discuss, but for now he was content to watch her rest peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked this story?
> 
> Check out Part Two: "Learning to Fly."
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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